My Foolish Heart
by Sid Mc
Summary: A handsome, dashing, Shakespeare-quoting villain takes Lou hostage, and loses his heart in the process. (A very old, previously-published fic.) Image copyright: Nesciri.
1. Chapter 1

**CHAPTER ONE**

Having endeavored for quite some time to lead a life which would never, by anyone's standards, be considered dull, I find it rather amusing that I have fallen victim to the singular dullest epidemic of all: I have fallen in love.

With who, you ask? Ah, there's the rub. She doesn't love me back. It's the oldest story in the world, so pathetically unoriginal, and I, Rafferty Nolan, have always conspired to be original.

So robbing trains and stages isn't exactly what one might call 'original'...as such. But you must admit it's not a standard occupation. Well, it's more of a pastime, really. I do it for fun. Of course, the money's not bad. But I don't fancy the fear in people's eyes; that's the one thing I don't like about the job. People always look so scared. They see the guns and their eyes get huge, and that makes me feel just terrible. The first time it was a small stagecoach traveling to Sacramento. The woman took one look at my revolver and she screamed and fainted. I felt very guilty. So the next time I smiled.

The smile is the trick, you see. My own personal method of putting people at ease. You just fire the gun in the air, call a halt to the vehicle, and then when you pull alongside and see the terror in those poor people's eyes, you smile. Just like that. It's quite simple, really. The women like it especially. You should see them hand over their jewelry and cash. Sometimes they smile, too. Occasionally, a really brazen girl will wink. They always make eye contact. One woman, quite lovely, dressed in all manner of frills and lace, told me, "You have the most beautiful eyes I've ever seen." I don't think her companion was too happy with that. Flirting with your attacker is hardly proper, is it?

Harry - he works with me - says he could never get away with it just by smiling. He's right, of course. We tried it one time, just to be sure. He smiled at the stagecoach driver and the man shot at him. He missed, but Harry's never tried that method since. I think the problem is that Harry's smile gives you the impression he's about to put a knife in your back. So now he just covers his face with a bandanna and points the gun and keeps quiet.

But all this isn't telling you about the woman I love. It's impossible to describe her, really. Words fail me. She's perfect in every way. Beautiful, fiery, independent, loyal. Eyes so velvety brown I could dive into them and swim around. A temper to match my own. In the short time I knew her - for it was a very short time, indeed - we had some glorious battles! I've never known a woman who made me feel so alive. She's gone now and I feel horrible. I'm mopey and moody and extremely cross. I've been snapping at Harry like a small dog every time he says or does anything. And all because of one woman. One very tiny, very perfect woman.

I suppose I should explain...

* * *

We spotted the two riders heading along the trail to Lockley and followed them past the town until we were about halfway between Lockley and McGovern Falls. They rode side by side at a leisurely pace, so Harry and I were able to take a bit of a breather.

"I'll take the little one," Harry whispered to me. I nodded in response.

"I like his horse, too. What do you think?"

I glared at him. "I think you should leave the boy his horse, you idiot! We've already got a bounty on our heads for robbery, do you really think we should add horse theft to the list?"

Harry shrugged sheepishly. He was a bit dim; not slow exactly, just not the brightest man I'd ever met. "I suppose you're right, Rafferty."

"Of course I'm bloody well right!" I hissed.

We continued in silence. Lunchtime was looming. The two riders ahead of us stopped for a moment and appeared deep in discussion. Harry and I stopped as well, waiting patiently.

"Tell me again why we're followin' them," he murmured.

I rolled my eyes heavenward and spoke in irritation. "They're Pony Express riders-"

"How can you tell, Raff?"

"By the mochila on their saddles. Good God, man, do you know nothing of the world around you?"

"All right, all right, don't jump all over me. I just asked. All right, so they're Express riders. What's that got to do with us? They're obviously not on a run or else they wouldn't be travelin' so slow."

"I have my reasons," I replied.

Harry shrugged and seemed to accept that response. I did have my reasons. One reason, actually: I was bored. Bored out of my mind. It had been over a week since we'd robbed anyone, and I find that it's a bit of a habit for me. If I don't get to do it, I become cranky and ill-tempered. I enjoy my work. What can I say? I'm a lucky man.

The two men climbed off their horses and began the process of building a fire. The taller of the pair removed his hat and wiped his sweaty forehead with his arm. His hair was a whitish-blond that reflected the glare of the sun. Harry and I dismounted and tethered our horses to the trees that hid us from the other men's line of view.

"I'm goin' to see if I can find us a rabbit or somethin', Lou," the blond called over his shoulder. "Mind gettin' that fire started?" I chuckled at the request he made of the small boy. The runt must have been used to being given the lesser of the chores, but by the look on his face he wasn't taking kindly to it.

"I'll get the fire started, Cody," he called in reply, "but I can't promise that you'll have somethin' for us to cook when you get back!"

I had to keep myself from laughing outright at that. Clearly the boy didn't just sit back and take what abuse was heaped on him. I looked at Harry and he was grinning at the thinly veiled insult.

We were crouched down behind some bushes that blocked us effectively from view. We watched for a moment as the boy began making the fire. I could feel Harry growing restless beside me. It was time.

"All right, on the count of three. You know the routine."

Harry nodded.

"One..."

We both readied our revolvers.

"Two..."

We straightened, rising to our knees.

"Three."

Harry and I stood at the same time and aimed our guns: Harry pointed at the boy, I fired into the air. The boy jumped ten feet high, a stick of wood flying to the ground. His hat flew off his head and he stared at us with wide eyes. I smiled.

"Don't worry, boy, we won't hurt you," I promised, letting my voice go low and smooth. "Just hand over the satchel and we'll be on our way." I smiled again.

"Like hell I will!"

Men are usually slower to respond to the smile.

"I mean what I say: we won't hurt you."

"I don't give a damn what you say. You get the satchel over my dead body."

I frowned. Quickly realizing my slip, I curled my lips upward once again. "Come on now, lad, is it really worth all that much?"

"What's it worth to you?" he challenged. "You don't even know what's in there!"

He had a point, but I wasn't willing to acknowledge that. "That's not the issue. Do you really think that in our line of work we can afford to find out what we're taking before we take it?"

The boy snorted. "If you had a lick of sense between you, you'd do just that."

I stared at him. I could feel myself growing furious. "You mouthy little runt. Just hand over the bloody satchel!"

He lowered his head and his eyes narrowed. "I said - over - my - dead - body," he enunciated carefully. I didn't hear the boy's companion approach, but Harry did. Thank God. I knew there was a reason I kept him around. Suddenly he whirled round and fired again. The blond man called Cody ducked quickly and effectively; the bullet whizzed past his head.

I turned to Harry. "Ace marksman, eh?" I couldn't help it. I should have kept my mouth shut, but it does have a tendency to run away with itself before I can rein it in.

"I just saved your sorry carcass!" exploded Harry.

"So you did," I said quickly, attempting to assuage him. "So you did, Harry. Thank you."

"Are you all right, Lou?" Cody shouted.

"I'm fine," Lou replied firmly. "These gentlemen were just attemptin' to relieve us of our parcels, Cody."

"Well, that's awful nice of 'em, but I reckon we can handle it ourselves," Cody drawled.

"Thank you just the same," Lou said, crossing his arms over his chest. Then he had the nerve to smile.

"I'll tell you what," Cody continued, "we're on a bit of an important trip just now, and we ain't got time for games like this. What do you say we tie you boys up real nice and pretty and escort you into McGovern Falls, and turn you over to the nice sheriff?"

The arrogant bastard. I had to laugh. "I don't think we fancy that idea much at all, quite frankly."

"Not a damn bit," Harry was compelled to add.

"I think we're at a bit of a crossroads here, gentlemen," I said. I gestured in the direction of Harry, who had his revolver pointed at Cody; then I gestured to Cody, whose gun was aimed at my forehead. "If we continue like this, either way you look at it we're going to be two men short...and then my partner Harry here, and young master Lou will be left to finish each other off. It doesn't paint a pretty picture, does it?"

"What are you sayin'?" asked Cody.

"Well," I shrugged, "I don't fancy killing anyone - I've never done it before and it seems rather messy. On the other hand, nor do I particularly relish the idea of being killed myself. I'm rather young and good-looking; I think I have a lot to live for."

I heard a chuckle escape from Lou's direction. Harry just looked amused.

I continued, "What I propose is that we call a truce. Harry puts down his gun, Mr Cody puts his down as well, and we all walk away like the civilized gentlemen we are."

Then Lou laughed outright. "Do you really think we'll agree to that?! Y'all are thieves! You probably got the law at your backs. Do you think we'll just leave you to terrorize the countryside?"

I had come to a decision. I didn't like it, but the boy was persistent. He wouldn't leave well enough alone. I said, "I was hoping I wouldn't have to do this, but you seem to be heading in the general direction of leaving me no choice."

My reflexes have always been fast. At school they called me Lightning Nolan. I withdrew my own weapon from the inner pocket of my jacket and lunged for Lou, my arms outstretched. Apparently his reflexes were just as good, for the moment my arms closed around him, I felt the blade of a rather large knife pushing through my left side. I screamed. Shots rang out. Lou screamed, a high, sharp wail, and I wrapped my arms about his neck, pulling him tightly up against me. Cody stood, his gun smoking, fear and horror on his face. Blood dripped down his shoulder. Harry was writhing on the ground with a matching wound. I held my gun to Lou's throat and felt him stiffen in my embrace.

"One more move, Mr Cody, and your young friend here dies. I may not care for the idea of killing a man, but I assure you I will not hesitate to do so if the need should arise. Now drop your weapon."

"Cody, don't listen to him! Shoot him!" Lou hollered.

I pressed the gun to his temple. "Quiet," I muttered. "You may be a brave lad, but I doubt even you would be so brave as to tempt a gun." Then I yelled at Harry, "Harry, can you ride?"

Harry groaned in agony, clamping his hand over his shoulder, his large body stiffening. After a moment he nodded. "I can ride," he said through gritted teeth.

"Then we'll be on our way, with master Lou here as collateral. If you follow us, Mr Cody, if I so much as see a cloud of dust that I think could be your horse, young master Lou will not be with us much longer."

It was amazing. I felt such rage, such powerful energy. Things had gone so horribly wrong, but it wasn't too late to make them right. I didn't want to kill the boy, and in truth I had no intent to, but he made a powerful checkmate in our deadly game of chess. I could see that Cody was desperate to keep his friend alive. He would do what had to be done.

"When the time comes," I said, "I'll release the boy - unharmed, quite safely. But first I must be certain that I am safe. It takes me quite some time to feel safe, Mr Cody, so I trust you will keep your distance for a couple of days. It would be a pity for your friend's death to rest on your shoulders. Harry!" I barked. "Are you ready?"

"I'm ready." He had risen to his feet and we began to simultaneously back up.

I dragged Lou along with me, his small feet unwilling. "If I were you I'd make a bit more of an effort," I warned him.

He was hesitant, I could see it in his dark eyes. But a second later he picked up his feet and matched our pace. His eyes were locked with his friend's as Cody grew further and further away. Then suddenly, as we had reached the clearing of trees where our horses were hidden, I heard an angry, frustrated cry: "Don't you hurt her!"

Lou froze. Harry and I stopped short. Her?

"Well, well, well," I said. "This could get interesting."


	2. Chapter 2

**CHAPTER TWO**

So you see, this girl was special from the start. How could I not have seen the secret she was hiding? All one had to do was look closer to see the gentle, feminine arch of her lips, the graceful lines of her neck, the soft curve of her hips. I've been with many women in my day, and I've certainly appreciated many more, and yet I missed this woman who was perhaps more magnificent than any I had come across before. It's not that her disguise was particularly good: a hat, spectacles, shirt, vest, breeches, boots. It wasn't all that effective, really, but I think the reason she fooled me was because I wasn't paying close enough attention. Who expects to see a girl masquerading as a boy? So I took her appearance for what it was, and saw her as a young man, as she meant for me to. I suppose I lost my heart just a bit the moment I realized she was a woman, and that underneath all that dust and grime, a very beautiful one at that.

But I had no intention of feeling anything more deeply. I could depend upon the utter detachment that I always felt. I could will my body into not responding to hers. I could will my mind into separating my attraction from my emotion. Of course, that was before I understood that the heart is the least dependable part of the body. The heart will betray everything you know to be true about yourself.

* * *

The moment her friend revealed her secret, Lou's entire demeanor changed. A certain mask dropped from her face, and instead of appearing like a very brave young man, she was every inch a brave young woman. No tears threatened her eyes. Her mouth was a thin line of resolve. She said nothing in reply to Cody's blunder, but she did sigh, a small sigh of frustration.

Harry and I continued to walk backward, our eyes on Cody's diminishing figure. We were nearly to the horses, my arm still a careful hold around Lou's slim neck. Then Harry climbed gingerly into the saddle of his horse. I could see that the shoulder was going to cause him a great deal of pain. He would get himself shot, the fool, and us not able to go to a doctor.

"You all right, Harry?"

He grimaced, grabbing the reins. "It shot clean through. Hurts like hell, but yeah, I'm all right."

"Good. Miss Louise, if you will be so kind as to hoist yourself up onto Rocky here, I would be ever so grateful." I patted Rocky's saddle. "Lovely horse, isn't he?"

"Don't call me 'Miss Louise'," was all she said. She slipped one booted foot into the stirrup. I'm a very tall man and Rocky was many hands high; Lou was out of her element on this horse. The stirrup was so high that when she put her foot in it her knee was level with her nose. It was an amusing sight.

"Let me help you."

"No, thank you." Her reply was curt. She grabbed firm hold of the saddle and with impressive strength hauled herself up, quickly slinging her leg over the other side. I put my hand on her thigh and she looked at me with distaste.

"Don't flatter yourself," I said, though she did feel soft and tempting. "I'm merely doing what I can to prevent you from taking the notion to ride off with my horse."

The sudden flash in her eyes told me my hunch had not been wrong. She would have taken the first opportunity to kick her heels into Rocky and ride hell for leather. She was that kind of woman. My interest flared again. "Move your feet," I instructed. She did so, and I climbed up behind her. I reached into my pocket and drew out a handkerchief. I quickly rolled it and then began to tie it around Lou's eyes.

Finally she reacted. "You won't get away with this, you know!" she said in outrage. Harry laughed.

"I mean it!" she said as I tightened it further and tied the knot securely. "I've got friends! They'll come lookin' for me!"

"Ah, but will they find you?" I asked.

"They've found me before."

"Impressive." But I wasn't really impressed. So they had found her before. They would probably find her again. The question was, would they risk her life to save her? I was even less inclined to kill a woman, but the instinct for survival is a strong one, especially in me.

We began to ride. At first Lou kept her body straight and stiff, her back not touching my chest, her arms crossed. Clearly she didn't want any part of her body to touch mine. But eventually, as the horses swallowed the miles and the hours fled by, she grew tired. Against her will she relaxed her body, until she wearily leaned back against me, framed by my arms. In a moment I heard her breathing become regular. The poor thing had fallen asleep.

Curiously, I felt a stirring of affection. She looked so little and helpless. And I felt badly that I was the cause of her suffering. But what was she to me? Just someone who had gotten in the way.

"Raff?"

"Yeah?"

Harry was riding just ahead of me but he stopped and waited for me till I was alongside him. "Raff, this is bad, ain't it?"

Dusk was looming. We were nearly there.

I nodded. "It's pretty bad."

"We haven't had to take anybody in a long time."

"True."

"She's just a little thing."

"Also true."

"I think we should just let her go."

"No, you're wrong." I spoke forcefully. "We cannot let her go, Harry. Don't you see? We have nothing to barter with if we don't have the girl."

"But Raff -"

"Do you want to go to jail, Harry? Is that what you're trying to tell me? Because if so, I will give you the girl. You can take her back and turn yourself in at McGovern Falls. I will be minus one partner, which is a pity, but on the bright side I will still have my neck intact."

He looked down at his shoulder, still trickling blood. "I don't fancy the idea of swingin' for no girl," he said. "No, I don't."

"Then shut up and keep riding."

"I was just sayin', Raff..."

"I know what you were just saying, Harry. Jesus, do you think I'm stupid?"

I spurred Rocky on and left Harry behind, picking up speed as I went. Lou began to jostle against me, so I tightened my hold. She felt nice, soft and warm, nice curves. I held her closer.

Hard to believe Harry is the son of one of the wealthiest, most refined men in Abilene, Texas. The Wileys are as close to aristocrats as Texas will ever see, and Harry was the youngest of the family. He was tall yet stocky, with a broad face that women seemed to find rather appealing. He clung to his past by wearing the most expensive suits to be had, so that while we were in the middle of the prairies stealing women's necklaces and men's pocket watches, he looked as if he belonged in a ballroom. He still had that strange, spooky smile, but he was very well-dressed.

The hideout was just ahead. Hideout. That makes it sound very mysterious and dangerous, doesn't it? It's not, actually. It's just that the term "shack" is a bit extreme, yet the term "house" doesn't suit it, either. It's somewhere in between. And it is where we hide out, so perhaps that's the best term for it in the long run.

It was growing dark. Lou suddenly awoke, her body jerking against mine. "Where am I?" Then she remembered.

"Comfortable?" I asked lightly.

"Never been better," she shot back, causing me to laugh softly. She tried to slide the bandanna over her eyes, but I stopped her.

"Well, you're about to have a bed for the night in just a minute. We're nearly there."

"Where's there?"

I laughed again. "Oh come now, Miss Louise, surely a clever girl like you doesn't expect me to fall for that question?"

After a moment she said, "I told you not to call me 'Miss Louise'."

Delighted with her spirit, I remained quiet. Harry pulled up next to me and we rode the remainder of the journey in silence. Lou had once again stiffened and her body no longer rested against my chest. Pity. It had felt rather nice.

At the house I dismounted and motioned for Lou to do the same after me. She did so, reluctantly accepting my offer of a helping hand. If she had not, she would have fallen to the ground and at the very least twisted an ankle; it was a long way down for such a small girl. When she had landed firmly, she released my hand and waited. Impatiently.

"You take the horses, Harry. When you come inside we'll take a look at that shoulder of yours."

In the fading light I could see him nod. "It's kinda numb," he said, "but it don't hurt as much. I think it's okay."

"Good. But let's be sure."

In the house I lit several kerosene lamps. I had removed her blind and Lou stood by the door staring at me. I could feel her anger and frustration with every breath she took. I refused to apologize, but at the very least I could offer her a comforting word.

"You won't be here long," I said kindly. "A couple of days, maybe three, till Harry and I know we're safe and can find ourselves a new place. Then we'll let you go." But she seemed untouched by what I had said. "I doubt I'll be here as long as you seem to think. My friends will find me. Kid won't rest until he finds me."

I raised an eyebrow. "Kid?"

She flushed, rather prettily I thought. "None of your business."

"You don't owe me an explanation," I agreed. "Bit of an unusual name, though. Is he your beau?"

"That's also none of your business."

"That's all the answer I need."

I had her there. She looked immediately resentful. "Have a seat," I said. "Make yourself comfortable."

I may as well have invited her to make her bed in a snake pit for the look she gave me in return. But she did sit down, gingerly, very reluctantly.

"Hungry?"

She shook her head, but I saw the truth of it in her eyes. "I'll fix us all something to eat, and then if you change your mind, you can join Harry and me."

I set about warming the beans Harry and I had fixed the night before. I cut up slices of cornbread and arranged them on a plate. There was a bit of bacon left in the makeshift larder, so I set that out as well. I straightened the worn tablecloth. I could feel her eyes on me. When I looked up, she seemed to be laughing at me.

"What?" I demanded, defensive.

"You're makin' the table look as pretty as a woman would." Despite herself, her eyes were lit with mischief.

I grinned. "No harm in that, surely?"

A faint smile passed over her lips. "Guess not. The boys I live with wouldn't think of it, though."

I had drawn her in. It was the smile. I could feel her relenting, however unwillingly. She was becoming interested despite herself. "Oh, yeah? Tell me about these fellows of yours." I let my eyes dance a bit, going for the full effect.

I had chosen the wrong words. She shut up again. The charm wasn't doing the trick. If she'd been any other girl she'd have been wrapped around my finger at that point, but as I was to learn, Lou McCloud was not just any other girl.

Harry came in then and with a shy glance at Lou, took off his coat and shirt. The bullet had indeed gone clean through. I doused the wound with whiskey, ignored Harry's mangled screams, and then bandaged his shoulder. He panted in renewed pain, and then calmed himself.

We began to eat. With great dignity Lou picked up the spoon that lay near the bowl I had placed before her. She ate, too, and I managed to refrain from mentioning what she had said earlier, though I did feel a glimmer of satisfaction. We finished eating and Harry retreated to his room at the back.

Lou and I gazed at each other. It was getting late and she looked worn to the bone. "You understand that I'll have to ask you to sleep on the couch here where I can keep an eye on you."

Lou snorted, a sound I remembered from before. "'Ask'?" she repeated. "You're not askin' me anything, you're tellin' me."

"Clever girl. That's exactly what I'm doing."

She unsuccessfully stifled a yawn. "I am tired," she admitted.

I nodded. I, on the other hand, require very little sleep. It's almost inhuman, really, the way I can go for days on an hour or two here and there. Very useful, though, especially in this instance. By the time I felt the need for some shut-eye, Harry, an early riser, would be up and would be able to watch our hostage.

"I have some things you can wear," I said. "Your clothes look filthy."

"I don't want to wear your clothes."

"They're not mine."

"I don't want to wear Harry's, either."

I clenched my jaw at her stubbornness. "They're not Harry's."

"Well then, whose are they?"

They were my sister's, or at least they had been. Sara. I thought of her lively laughter, her sweet smile directed at me, her sighs of "Oh, Raff".

But I couldn't say that to Lou or anyone else. "A young woman's," I answered. "A very wonderful young woman."

"What did you do to her?" Lou sneered.

I shot to my feet and stood over her. "She was my sister!" I roared at the top of my lungs.

Lou shrank back against the corner of the couch, looking more apologetic than afraid. "I'm sorry," she murmured, "I shouldn't have said that."

"No, you shouldn't have," I agreed. I moved to a crumbling old bureau that the previous residents had left behind, and withdrew one of Sara's nightgowns. "I realize this is a bit improper, but I doubt you'd be comfortable sleeping in one of her dresses."

"This will be fine."

"You can change in there." I pointed to a tiny, windowless closet, then began to shrug out of my coat.

Lou lifted a lamp to light her way, then stopped, gasping. "You're still bleedin'!" she cried. I looked down in surprise. I had forgotten about the gash in my side where she had so effectively stabbed me with her knife only this afternoon. It was a long incision and a wide one from the looks of my shirt. Blood still oozed slowly out. My once-crisp white shirt was covered in red. Funny, but I hadn't felt the pain until now. Suddenly it was indescribable. "Look at that. No thanks to you," I said teasingly.

She had her slender fingers to the thoroughly soaked cotton of my shirt. She looked about to touch me, and I held my breath, wondering if she would. She hesitated. "You should clean that up."

"Care to do it for me?" I only spoke in jest, but she looked deeply offended.

"While I am here under threat of death, I will do my best to cooperate with you. But I will not play your games or be a part of them in any way!" She stormed off to the closet. She opened the door and then whirled back to face me. "What is your name, anyhow?" she asked.

I tried not to smile. "Rafferty. Rafferty Nolan."

"You don't frighten me, Rafferty Nolan. You don't frighten me at all. If I'm stayin' here and not causin' a fuss, it's only because I know there's no point in it. Just know that, you hear me?" She slammed the door shut behind her and I could hear her stirrings in the closet as she undressed.

And so I lost my heart just a little more.


	3. Chapter 3

**CHAPTER THREE**

I'm sure you see where this is going. Right now you are saying to yourself, "By Jove, the lad's falling in love." Well, you're far quicker than I was, and I applaud you. All I knew was that this amazing creature had piqued my interest. She was spirited, she was fiery, she had lovely eyes and a nice smell about her, but no more than that. Or so I thought.

* * *

I stayed up that night as Lou slumbered peacefully on the battered coach. She had wiped off most of the travel grime and her skin was smooth and inviting.

Women amaze me. I stare at them in wonder. It's everything - the way they walk, the curve of their hips swaying ever so subtly; it's the way each woman smells differently, whether they bathe in perfume or reek of sweat and sun; it's their humor, their willingness to forgive and forget, their great capacity for love and trust and acceptance, the fact that their bodies can give life.

I know not every woman is a saint. There are women out there just as cold and calculating as men, women who don't choose to forgive, don't choose to give life. Women with hard eyes and unrelenting hearts. But still, I am mystified on the whole, for though they are women, they are as exotic and fascinating as if they were another species. I watched Lou sleep, the hypnotizing rise and fall of her chest and shoulders as she lay on her side, toward me. Her brown hair fell in her face, short, but long enough to cover her soft cheek. She was really quite lovely.

It was late; the mantelpiece clock read four-fifteen. I felt subdued, but not tired. Eventually even the pleasant occupation of watching Lou sleep wore thin and I picked up the book I had been reading. I quickly grew intent on the pages before me and I do not know how long I read before her voice startled me out of my reverie.

"'A Collection of Poetry and Essays'," she read from the cover of my book.

I closed the book and set it down on my leg, regarding her intently. "Trouble sleeping?"

She shook her head and sat up straight, yawning and stretching. The blanket fell down around her waist. She wore the white nightgown, her hair mussed and tangled. She curled her legs up to her chest, as innocently as a child. I think that although she had claimed not to be frightened of me, to a degree she had been. I was pleased to note that she seemed to have ceased to be afraid. "No," she said in answer to my question. "I just kinda woke up, I guess." The she pointed to my book. "What are you readin' now?"

"Emerson's 'Success'."

"Is that a poem?"

"Sort of, I suppose. Maybe more of an essay."

The fire crackled before us, tiny shards of ashes flying into the air and landing on the ground. We watched the bright flames. "Read it to me."

I was surprised but tried not to show it. "Is it normal for a hostage to ask her captor to read poetry to her?" By the light of the fire I could see her roll her eyes. "You feel comfortable around me, Louise. Why is that? You've no reason to; I've kidnapped you, you know."

"I'm pretty well aware of that."

"Then why? It's useless to deny it, I can see that you are: you're comfortable. You've relaxed."

"I told you I wasn't scared of you."

"That's no reason for you to look quite so at home."

"You're a real bastard, you know that?" But she said it more out of exasperation, it seemed, than anger.

"And that comforts you?" I persisted.

Lou laughed. "You just don't give up, do you?"

"Would you be here if I did?"

She shrugged her slim shoulders and squeezed her arms tighter around her knees. "I don't know," she said lamely. "I guess it's because I'm not scared. I feel more irritated than anything. I don't like feelin' helpless, and bein' here makes me feel helpless. But...I don't know. I have to make the most of it. You're obviously not goin' to hurt me, no matter what you said to Cody, so it'd be pointless to sit here and make myself miserable. It feels more like I'm havin' to visit with someone I don't particularly care to visit with." Then she turned to eye me with a steely gaze. "But that don't mean I wouldn't take the first opportunity to get the hell out of here."

I roared with laughter. "Well, that's admirable."

"Read me 'Success'."

"Success: to laugh often and much; to win the respect of intelligent people and the affection of children; to earn the appreciation of honest critics and endure the betrayal of false friends; to appreciate beauty; to find the best in others; to leave the world a bit better, whether by a healthy child, a garden patch, or a redeemed social condition; to know even one life has breathed easier because you have lived. This is to have succeeded.'" I looked up at her quietly intent face. "Ralph Waldo Emerson."

"That sounds like somethin' Teaspoon would tell us," Lou said thoughtfully.

"You and these gentlemen with odd names," I said. "Kid. Teaspoon. Who else do you live with? Any other kitchen utensils among you?"

She grinned wickedly. "You'll be meetin' them all soon enough when they come lookin' for me."

I laughed. "I'll look forward to it, then."

"You must be tired, sittin' up all this time just to keep an eye on me."

"Not at all. I don't need much sleep. Can I ask you something, Louise?"

"You just did."

I narrowed my eyebrows, confused. Then I caught her grin. "Very funny."

"Couldn't resist. And don't call me Louise, all right? Call me Lou."

"Louise is a very beautiful name. Why don't you like it?"

"Is that the question you wanted to ask me?"

I was beginning to feel exasperated, but rather amused. "Actually, no."

"Well, I'll answer it anyway: I like the name Louise. But I like bein' called Lou."

"Very well, then...Lou...actually, that fits in with what I want to ask you. Why exactly do you travel dressed in men's clothes?"

"You're gettin' mighty personal, Rafferty."

"I'm intrigued."

"That's a fancy way of sayin' nosy. But to answer your question, I ride for the Pony Express. I can't exactly go prancin' around in dresses and bonnets."

"You mean you ride for the Express?" I was duly impressed. "When I saw you both riding I knew you were with the Express, but finding out you were a woman made me think otherwise. Amazing."

Lou looked miffed. "What's amazin'? That a girl can handle the job?"

I threw my hands in the air. "Touchy, touchy. That's not what I meant at all. I think it's amazing that you've gotten away with your charade for so long."

"Others know. The boys I live with, but they wouldn't tell. They're my family." Suddenly she looked like a lost little girl and she drew the blanket around her shoulders, biting her lower lip.

"Are you cold?"

She nodded. "Why is it so cold? It was warm yesterday."

"Probably the last hurrah of fall. I think we're gearing up for winter. Didn't you feel that nip in the air as we were riding back?"

"Not really. I was pretty warm." Then Lou stopped and blushed furiously; remembering, I'm sure, that she had traveled back wrapped in my arms.

It's not in my nature to let sleeping dogs lie. If I want to know something, it's generally impossible to stop me from asking. I said, "And what would your fellow say if he knew that I'd kept you warm on a cold night?"

"That's none of your business."

"That's the third time you've said that to me."

"As you pointed out, Rafferty, you're my kidnapper; what kind of a woman would I be to confide in the man holdin' me hostage?"

"A delightful one," I said, smiling. "You keep me on my toes, Louise - pardon me...Lou. You're quite refreshing to have around."

"You're used to women fallin' all over you, aren't you?" She had one eyebrow raised, studying me. I found I didn't mind.

"To a certain extent, yes," I said.

"Well, don't go thinkin' I'm goin' to be one of 'em. It takes a lot more than a handsome face and a nice smile to turn my head."

I was delighted. "You think I'm handsome?"

She ignored me. "I'm just a challenge to you, that's all. You like challenges. Well, I won't be a prize for you

in your little game."

"You keep referring to a 'game'. What makes you think I'm playing a game?"

"Isn't that why I'm here? You were about to lose and you couldn't have that. You had to make sure you won, right? Kidnappin' me was just your next move to make sure you won the game."

I was stunned that she had seen it that way. Because, of course, she was right. Not that I had ever thought of it like that.

"I've never thought of it like that," I said.

"Men," she huffed, "I can read you like dime store novels. Once you read the first chapter, the rest of it's easy to follow."

"Interesting analogy."

"I'm tired," she said, yawning again, not responding to my last statement. She lay back down, drawing the covers up to her neck. "If you want to sleep, go ahead. I won't be goin' anywhere."

My mind was whirling. God, she made my blood boil with that cool, dismissive tone of hers. I didn't remember a woman ever speaking to me like that before.

Outside, it began to snow.


	4. Chapter 4

**CHAPTER FOUR**

When we awoke the next morning the world was blanketed in a fine layer of white. Only yesterday the sun had shone and I had actually sweated under my hat and coat. But the brisk breeze that had torn through the land had brought winter at its heels.

I woke to find Lou standing in her nightgown at the window, staring out in great dismay. I knew what she was thinking: How could her friends find her when our tracks were lost in the snow?

Harry hobbled out of his room, yawning and clutching his sore shoulder. "Mornin', Raff."

"Morning, Harry."

"Mornin', Miss," he said.

"Mornin'," she replied, surprisingly polite.

"Sleep all right?" Harry asked her.

"Fine, thanks."

"I'll start buildin' up the fire," he said. He did the best he could, but his shoulder prevented him from doing a very good job.

"Harry," I said, slipping into a flannel shirt, "you really should have that looked at."

He turned to me in surprise. "I can't do that, Raff! We got people lookin' for us, I can't go waltzin' into a doctor's office!"

"The way I see it is this, Harry: no one's ever seen your face. Right? You're always the one behind the bandanna. If you were going to get caught, it would be because I was with you - this face and accent are going to get by too many people. But if you go alone I think you stand a chance."

Harry pondered the wisdom of this rationale. "It does hurt pretty bad," he admitted. "But what if the doc asks me how I got shot?"

"Tell him it was an accident." I paused, breaking into a smile. "Tell him you were trying to fend off thieves and they shot you."

Harry guffawed, slapping his knee with his other hand. "I just might do that!" he exulted.

Lou was watching us. "How's your side?" she asked me.

"Aching," I said, although truthfully I was able to ignore the pain.

"Do you think you oughta see a doctor, too?" Harry wondered.

"Yes, brilliant idea, Harry. Let's you and I both go into town and leave Lou behind to tidy the place up a bit; I think we can trust her, don't you? Or better yet, let's take her with us!" I clapped my hands together as if the idea was a pleasant one. "Yes, Harry! Let's take her with us into town and introduce her round as our bloody hostage!" My sarcasm rapidly descended into a frenzied shout.

Harry winced. "I was just askin', Raff," he said. A familiar sentence from his lips.

I sighed. "Yes, Harry."

He hung his head and walked back to his room like a dog with its tail between its legs.

I felt Lou's eyes on me. "What?" I demanded.

"Are you always this rotten to him?"

"Not always," I sneered.

"How in the world did the two of you hook up?"

"Now who's being nosy?"

She shrugged. "I'm curious."

"It's not a very interesting story."

Harry came out of his room, pulling on his heavy corduroy jacket. He buttoned it up to his neck and grabbed his hat, settling it firmly on his head.

"Looks mighty cold out there," he commented. "I don't especially like the idea of goin' out in it."

I said, "And I don't especially like the idea of you bleeding to death when that wound gets reopened."

"I didn't say I wasn't goin', Raff." Harry grabbed some cold biscuits from the table and stuffed them in his pockets.

"You'll be fine," I said, as comfortingly as I could. "It's a half-hour's ride to town. You'll be back by late afternoon; I'm sure of it."

He seemed relieved. "You sure you'll be all right here?"

I laughed. "I think I can handle Lou." Deep down I wasn't so sure, but I was more than up to the task. "Ride safe, Harry."

Lou stared at me in surprise.

"Thanks, Raff."

Lou and I watched from the window as Harry disappeared into the barn. A few minutes later he came out riding his horse, and with a quick wave he took off and was soon out of sight. We stayed at the window far longer than was necessary. I think we were both feeling a bit edgy knowing that the next few hours would be spent solely in each other's company. There was a palpable tension between us. I could only think of one thing to break it.

"Care for some breakfast?"

* * *

By ten o'clock I could have cheerfully strangled her by her tiny little neck. By half past, I was besottedly in love. It started when she spotted the game of checkers on the mantlepiece. "Let's play," she said.

I made a face. "I don't play games."

She raised an eyebrow. "Don't you?" she said sarcastically.

"Ha ha."

She laughed. Maybe it was just my imagination, but I think she was actually beginning to like me. I set my book aside, relenting. "All right. Just one game."

The truth was we were both bored out of our minds. After breakfast I had fed and watered my horse, with Lou as my unwilling companion. And then the snow began falling again. Once inside the house we were at a loss as to keep ourselves occupied. I had picked up my book and Lou had sat and stared at the fire. It wasn't exactly an exciting morning. I began to fully comprehend just how bizarre our situation was as I stared at the pages, the words swimming before my eyes.

We began to play. Within the first five moves Lou was whipping me soundly. No matter where I went she found a way to take my men. She had four kings before I'd so much as made it halfway across the board.

This is why I don't play games.

"Stop doing that!" I exclaimed as she trounced yet another of my men.

"Doing what?" She giggled in delight, landing her king in its square with an unnecessary thud.

I pointed to the board in outrage. "That! Stop doing that!"

Lou covered her mouth with her hands. "Your move," she said, stifling another giggle.

I glared at her, then began studying the board. I saw my opportunity and moved, at last capturing one of her men. "Aha!" I crowed, flipping the token into the air and catching it again.

Lou stroked her chin and nodded. "Yes," she said gravely, lifting her king. "Good move, Rafferty." Then she took three of my men.

"You are a wicked, wicked girl!" I shouted over her laughter.

"You should see the look on your face!" Lou threw her head back, her body shaking with laughter.

"I'm glad you're enjoying my humiliation." My face was red with shame: beaten by a girl, and thoroughly beaten at that.

"You look like this -" Lou stuck her lower lip out and slouched pitifully.

"I don't look like that."

"Yes you do! You look just like Cody does when someone else wins. He gets all pouty and whiney, and you have to baby him for a while till he gets over it."

"I'm not pouting!"

"Tuck your lip in and I'll believe you."

I shook my head. "I give up. I've never had a hostage quite like you, Lou."

She looked at me, her brown eyes dancing with mischief. "That's a bizarre compliment, but I'll take it." She began removing the game pieces and putting them back in the box. "What else is there to do around here?"

But I was still lost in those eyes, the memory of her laughter still warm and fresh. I thought of the way her nose wrinkled up when she laughed, the teasing way she had of speaking to me. I could feel my heart doing funny things inside of me. As it was an entirely new feeling for me, I didn't quite recognize it at first, but then Lou said, "Won't I have some funny stories to tell the boys when I get back."

Then I thought of her leaving, and terror seized me. That's when I knew what the feeling was. Good God, I was in love with her. She replaced the box on the shelf and turned to me, hands on her hips. She was dressed again in her dirty breeches and shirt. "I'm goin' stir crazy in here. I need somethin' to do."

I said nothing. I could find no words. I was still trying to reconcile myself with this strange new sensation.

"Cat got your tongue?"

I had to act as naturally as possible. I cleared my throat. "Of course not."

"Good." She looked past me to the window. She gasped loudly. "Rafferty, look!"

I craned my neck and looked. Snow was falling thick and fast. "But it's only October!" I protested, as if the weather could be reasoned with.

Lou flew to the window. "Oh, no," she wailed. "The boys are out there in that!"

"I'm sure they'll be fine."

"No thanks to you."

The abrupt change in her temper startled me more than the abrupt change of weather. "Lou?"

She strode off, arms crossed over her chest. "I can't believe I let myself start..." She stopped and did not continue.

"Start what?" I asked shakily. I wanted to go to her, to hold her and comfort her, but I could see how that would be an incredibly stupid thing to do.

"Nothin'," she shot back. "You and your damn thievin'. If it hadn't been for you, me and the boys wouldn't be in this mess!"

"True." It pained me to see the anger in her eyes. I was growing to love her more with every minute. In my new wisdom I knew that it had started yesterday as she slept in my arms. For as Christopher Marlowe had said, who ever loved that loved not at first sight?

Lou whirled back to face me. "Why?" she asked. "You're a smart man, I can see that. Why do you do this? Why can't you make an honest life?"

I shrugged. "We all make our own choices for our own reasons. This is the life for me. I don't care for the working life and I don't care to be among people. What I do - it's rather fun, really."

"You steal!"

"I steal from people who can afford to be stolen from!" I shouted. "Rich men with fat bellies who drink all day and gamble all night; women who buy new diamonds on the slightest whim; people who don't give a damn about anyone or anything but their wealth and what they can buy with it!"

"Oh, you're a real Robin Hood," retorted Lou. "What gives you the right to judge these people? What makes you any better? You're a thief! Is this really the kind of life you want to lead?"

"'Life's but a walking shadow'," I quoted, "'a poor player that struts and frets his hour upon the stage, and then is heard no more; it is a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing'."

"Argh!" she exploded, her hands flying up into the air. "You're impossible!" She stormed off into Harry's room and slammed the door.

I wasn't worried she would try and escape. The snow was too thick and her boots and coat were still in the livingroom. She was brave, but she wasn't stupid.

Unfortunately, I wasn't so sure I could say the same about myself.


	5. Chapter 5

**CHAPTER FIVE**

Harry didn't come back that evening, which was to be expected. By nightfall Lou still had not come out of the room where she had sequestered herself from me. For my part, I spent the remainder of the day trying to read. I say "trying" because my attempts consisted of staring at the pages and doing my best to absorb the words. I failed miserably, and by suppertime I threw my book across the room. It landed against the wall with a thud and went clattering to the floor. The binding broke and it lay face-up, the pages sticking straight into the air.

I had tried to draw Lou out several times since the morning, but to no avail. She ignored me. I could hear her stirring within the room from time to time, but she never responded to my entreaties. Finally I stopped trying. But when it grew dark, I heard the door open, and a moment later Lou walked out, blinking in the lamplight. "It's dark in there," was all she said to me.

"Would you like a lamp to take with you?"

She shook her head. "I'll just stay in here for a while."

My heart beat wildly, but I kept my voice as calm as I could. "Would you like something to eat?"

"I think so."

Within minutes I had bacon sizzling in the pan and the pleasant aroma soon filled the room. It was to be a simple dinner again.

"Harry's not back yet?"

"I doubt he'll be back any time soon. Have you looked outside lately?"

Lou walked to the window and peered out. Thick drifts of snow covered the few trees that surrounded the house, the whiteness dazzling against the black night. "It's beautiful," she breathed.

"I thought so, myself."

"Does it snow much where you came from?"

"Yes, but not in October."

"Were you rich?"

I looked at her questioningly. "What makes you think that?"

"The way you talk. The way you dress. The things you read."

I laughed. "Yes, I suppose we were rich," I said.

"Is that why you steal? So you can still have that kind of life?"

I froze, offended. "Look around you, Lou - this isn't exactly the lap of luxury."

"Then what? I've been sittin' in there, Rafferty, and I've been tryin' to figure you out. I've thought and I've thought, tryin' to figure out what would make someone like you choose this kind of life!"

"Someone like me?" I echoed.

She sighed and ticked each statement off on her fingers, "You're educated, you're smart, you're handsome, you've got a head for plannin'. You've got everything you need to be successful. You could do anything you set your mind to."

"Did it every occur to you that this is what I've set my mind to?"

"I don't believe that. There's more to you than this."

For some reason that really angered me. Maybe because she was acting so calm and composed while inside I was in turmoil. "What the hell do you know? You think twenty-four hours with me qualifies you to analyze me?"

She shrank back at the force of my tone. "I guess I thought we...I guess I thought we were sort of..." Her voice trailed off as she gestured with her hand in a manner I suppose was to indicate she was at a loss for words.

"What I do is my business and should be of no concern to you. I'm sorry if my lifestyle doesn't fit in with your idea of what's right and proper; I'm sorry if I don't fit in with your picture perfect 'boys'. I'm a different person, Lou, and you don't know the first thing about me."

"That's why I'm askin' you!" she shouted.

My anger faded and I said quietly, "Lou, do you remember our circumstances? I've kidnapped you. I'm holding you hostage. You're not supposed to be interested in why I do what I do."

"You're right," she admitted. She ran her hand through her hair. "I'm sorry."

I tried to still my heart as she turned and went to sit on the sofa. I watched the downward tilt of her head, the slight trembling of her hands as she folded them in her lap. Her posture belied her apparent calm. For the first time I felt the need to apologize. I set the plate of biscuits down. "I'm sorry, Lou."

She looked up at me in surprise.

"I'm sorry that I caused all of this. Your friends are out there in this mess because of me. They're worried about you and you're worried about them."

The guilt had begun to eat away at me. It was truly a remarkable thing. I had never before given much thought to the plights of those who happened to cross my path. I never thought of the families that worried about them and that they worried about in turn. Right now there were men sick with fear over Lou, not knowing whether she was alive or dead, safe or harmed. If Lou were mine and she were taken from me, my rage and fright would know no bounds.

Lou looked away, out again into the white world beyond the house. She crossed her arms over her chest and sighed. "I have to believe they're safe," she said in a faraway voice. "I have to believe that, or I'll go crazy."

* * *

The snow didn't let up. Night fell and Lou and I braced ourselves against the cold that seeped into the house, however big we built the fire. I was astounded by the weather, this startling change in the prairie climate, the hard slap of winter against our faces. I had to feed my horse and was grateful he had a barn to rest in. I didn't force Lou to come with me. In fact, I insisted she stay behind.

"Your poor horse," she said as I bundled myself up, preparing to walk to the barn. "He's all alone out there. He must be awfully lonely."

I smiled at this sentimentality. "Would you like me to bring him back here with me?" She grinned. "I think he'll be all right in the barn."

"I shouldn't be more than an hour. There's plenty of wood, so if you get cold, just add as much as you like." I wrapped a muffler around my neck. "All right?"

Lou nodded. "Be careful."

It was a good thing I was facing the door when she said that, otherwise she would have seen the blush rage across my face. Her concern warmed me more than it should have, more than it was intended to.

I took a deep breath, my hand at the door. "Here goes nothing..." I yanked the door open. The wind immediately struck against my face, momentarily paralyzing me with its cold. "Stay back!" I yelled to Lou. I pulled the door shut behind me. I could feel Lou pushing from inside the house. It closed with a loud slam.

And then I was alone.

The world was magnificent, a palace of snow and crystal; trees with heavy white branches, hilltops lining the horizon as white as drifts of sugar, and all around me beautiful, gorgeous snow. All was still and quiet, the sounds of the prairie muffled by the whistling wind. The air was cool and crisp; when I breathed it in, its sharpness cut my nostrils. It was so clear that every star in the sky looked closed enough to touch, their brilliance dazzling. It was a glorious night. For a long moment I just stood and stared around me, a silly smile spread across my face.

For as long as I could remember, winter had touched me more deeply than any other season. I loved everything about it, even its dangers. But it was bloody cold. I rubbed my hands together and continued my trek to the barn, loving the sound of my footsteps in the snow. I felt as happy and carefree as a child, making each step deliberately harder so that the snow crunched louder. I took larger steps, spreading them out, till I walked like a man eight feet tall, my strides spread further and further apart. I giggled to myself, thinking of days gone by, winters when Sara and I would tumble in the snow, making snow angels and having snowball fights.

"I wonder..." I whispered to myself. "Can I remember how..." Thinking back, I remembered exactly how it was done, and without ceremony I threw myself back into the snow, landing with a resounding thud. I spread my arms and legs out and ran them up and down next to my body, over and over, blowing into the air to see my breath stand out like a puff of smoke. I wondered if Sara was watching, laughing at me as I made an angel in the snow.

After a minute I rose, careful not to disturb the figure I had created in the whiteness. I stood and surveyed my creation. Nicely done. Sara would have been proud.

I looked back to the house where the chimney was puffing like mad to keep up with the fire. Lou was in there, her pretty face lit by the lamp, her hair shining, probably hoping I would freeze to death out here and leave her to escape. My eyes slid to the window. It took a moment to realize that Lou's face was there, peering out at me. I squinted closer to verify, and indeed it was. And if her posture was anything to go by, she was laughing at me.

My face colored with humiliation. She had been watching me make a snow angel; watching her big, imposing, temperamental abductor flop about in the snow like a child on Christmas Day. How embarrassing. I turned, my head held high, and with as much dignity as I could muster, I went on to the barn.

Rocky seemed pleased to see me. I spent a pleasant few minutes feeding and petting him, letting my humiliation fade into the background. I had put it all into perspective: if it had given her a laugh, well, it was the least I could do for her. I've never been one to linger over such things, and I have an easy time laughing at myself. I would have had to have been completely devoid of humor not to appreciate the funny idea of such a scene.

I kept Rocky company for quite a while. He was a handsome creature and I was very fond of him. He nuzzled me for a bit as I murmured nonsense to him, and then the cold began to bite at me and I knew it was time to go in. My fingers began to feel numb despite my thick gloves, and the tip of my nose was frozen. My limbs felt heavy with the cold, my breeches chafing against my skin.

"It's definitely time to go in, Rocky." I patted his nose one last time and then left the barn. I rubbed my hands up and down my arms, coaxing warmth back into my blood to no avail. The sooner I was back inside, the better.

I should have known the hole was there. It was covered in snow, but I still should have remembered it was there. It had been there for several weeks now, despite my weekly demands that Harry plug it up before one of the horses stepped in it and broke their neck.

My foot slipped through the pile of snow, down until it met the hole. I felt my ankle twist and give way and I went crashing to the ground after it.

It took only a second for the pain to kick in, and I spewed every curse word that came to mind in a long, unbroken string: "Damn and blast and bloody hell and sod the flipping..."

I continued for several minutes. With that out of my system, I paused to reflect upon my situation. The house was within view, but still a goodly length away. I was sure I could make it. I stood again. The pain was excruciating, but I could ignore it. I hobbled my way onward.

God, but it was cold. The snow was falling fast, obscuring my line of vision. Soon all I could see were the bright streaks of white that fell from the sky. The lights from the house grew fuzzy. The wind stung my face, every drop of snow like the prick of a needle against my skin. My movements grew sluggish. After a few steps I forgot to go lightly on my twisted ankle, and I stepped hard, once again falling to the ground. I felt my head connect with something hard and sharp and unyielding.

I found I lacked the energy to try to right myself again. I sat up, but then grew tired, and quickly laid back down on the cold snow, panting with the effort. I was so cold it felt as if my layers of clothing were thin as tissue paper. I could feel every particle of snow as if it were directly against my skin. My ankle throbbed, my head ached, and there was a curious feeling at my side. With my last shred of strength I removed one glove and slipped my bare hand under my jacket, touching my shirt with searching fingers. When I removed my hand again it was red with blood. My knife wound had reopened.

"Yuck," I commented in disgust. I wiped my hand on the snow, sending bright streaks of red slashing against its pure whiteness.

I stared up at the sky, the stars as hard and clear as diamonds. I struggled to regain my breath. The cold had seeped into my lungs. I drew in deeply and exhaled. I shouted, "Lou!"

Then I waited for a response. Nothing. I tried again. I called her name four times and received nothing in reply. After that I was too exhausted, so I gave up. Every time I inhaled I winced in pain. My thoughts grew hazy. Soon even the stars were out of focus. Then I heard footsteps, not loud crunches in the snow, but the soft patter of someone treading lightly. I heard the rustle of silk and a shadow loomed over me. I peered closely. My heart lifted. "Sara?"

Her brown hair was a halo around her face. She knelt beside me and smiled, placing her hand on my chest. "Sara, where have you been?"

She just smiled and said nothing.

"Sara, I have so much to tell you! I've missed you so! Can you stay?" She shook her head no. "Please, Sara, I've missed you so. I need you." She shook her head again. "Sara, please..." At the look on her face, I said, "You're ashamed of me, aren't you? You're ashamed of what I've become." Sara made no move to respond, but the sad, disappointed look in her eyes said it all for me. She leaned forward and kissed my forehead, then rose once more and backed slowly away. "No, wait! Don't go! Sara, don't go! I need you! Sara, please!"

In a second she was gone and I was left alone, my voice echoing in the night.

"I must be insane," I said to myself. "I'm hallucinating, that must be it." But she had seemed so real, so vivid. Sara. My sister, my friend, my torturer, my conscience. She had been gone three years now. I don't know how long I lay there, but soon my thoughts began to spin in a thousand different directions.

Memories floated through my clouded brain like pinwheels, with no rhyme, reason, or order - sailing to America with my father and my sister...burying my mother the year before...crying for her at night...Sara singing me to sleep, her big sister duties never-ending...growing up tall and strong with my mother's eyes and lips and hair, a source of pride to my sister, but a source of pain to my father...Tess, the first girl I kissed at a saucy thirteen years old...meeting Harry in Abilene two years ago...Sara's murder three years ago...seeing Lou in that nightgown, watching her sleep.

I thought back to that first, accidental step in the direction of my career. That step that had been the point of no return, though I hadn't realized it at the time. I was no longer cold. My insides had begun to warm. I could feel warmth flowing to my fingertips and toes. It was a delicious feeling. I sighed with contentment. I began to sweat under my hat and clothes. I was achingly tired. There was no harm in a few minutes sleep, surely...

I closed my eyes and let sleep overtake me. My last thought was of a poem I had read by Emily Dickinson.

_Because I could not stop for Death,_

_he kindly stopped for me..._


	6. Chapter 6

**CHAPTER SIX**

The first thing I was conscious of were hands. Hands that stroked my face with calm and ease, their warmth and softness trying to sooth, but instead stinging my raw flesh. My eyes flew open, meeting another pair of eyes, soft brown, dark with fear.

"Rafferty? Can you hear me?"

I opened my mouth, moved my lips. Nothing would come out. Lou's hand rested on my cheek. It burned.

"Rafferty?"

"Please..." I finally managed to croak. "Don't...touch me."

She snatched her hand away, wounded.

"Sorry...it hurts," I mumbled by way of explanation.

She nodded, understanding. "Can I get you anything?"

The next word startled her with its firmness. "Water." My throat was parched.

Lou dashed to the kitchen, quickly filling a cup with water, bringing it back to me with the same urgency. She handed the cup to me, but my hands shook, spilling the water onto the blanket that was wrapped around me. With calm assurance, Lou covered my hand with her own, wrapping my fingers around the cup, holding it steady while I lifted my head to drink. My head felt heavy and unbalanced on my shoulders. I felt her free hand steal around to steady me and I took a long gulp of the water. It was the best water I had ever tasted.

I pulled my lips away and whispered, "Enough."

Gently Lou lowered my head back onto the couch and set the water down on the floor. I squinted, looking up. It was bright outside. "When did you...find me?" I had to swallow between words. Every time I opened my mouth my throat dried up.

"Later that same night," she answered.

"What?" I asked in surprise. What did she mean 'later that same night'?

"You said to give you an hour, so I gave you two. After that I started gettin' worried. So I went lookin' for you. I found you sprawled out in the snow halfway between the house and the barn, bleedin' six ways to Sunday. That was the day before yesterday."

"God..." I closed my eyes, swallowing hard. It felt strange knowing a day of my life had passed by without my being aware of it. Then another thought occurred to me. I opened my eyes again. "How...how the hell did you get me in here?"

Lou grinned triumphantly. "It wasn't easy, I can tell you that much. You were dead weight! But I pushed and I pulled and I got you here. I'm stronger than I look, you know."

"I believe you."

We regarded each other quietly.

"I'm glad you're all right, Rafferty."

"I don't know how to thank you, Lou. You saved my life." My voice had gained strength once more.

Her eyes were soft and forgiving. "Don't mention it. You'd have done the same for me."

I smiled. She had no idea how much I would do for her. I would save her life or give my own, whatever the need required. I closed my eyes, tired again. "Thank you, Louise."

I heard the laughter in her voice as I drifted off once more. "I told you not to call me Louise."

* * *

I slept most of the day and woke again at dusk. I could smell biscuits nearly ready, and another, unidentifiable odor. "Lou?" I called out.

Within seconds she was at my side. "What do you need? Can I get you somethin'?"

"No, I'm fine." I was relieved. Just knowing she was there made me feel better. "I'm fine," I said again.

She relaxed into a smile. "Good. I'll bring you your supper."

My stomach rebelled at the thought. I groaned. "Oh, God, no food. No thank you, Lou."

Lou frowned, hands on her hips. "I didn't ask if you were hungry." She whirled around, heading to the kitchen, and when she came back she had a steaming bowl and a plate of biscuits in her hands. "Scoot over." She nudged me with her hip as she sat by my side.

Pushing at the cushions with both hands, I managed to sit up straight and lean against the arm of the couch. I looked down at the bowl she held out, eyeing the mass of what looked like congealed gravy, with uncertainty. "I'm not hungry."

"Eat." Her voice was steely. "Don't make me feed you like a baby, Rafferty Nolan."

I grinned. "That doesn't sound so bad," I teased. She rolled her eyes and shoved the bowl and spoon at me. I took a tentative bite. My mouth filled with the most awful taste I had ever encountered: something that was somewhere between oatmeal and grits, with a godawful amount of salt. I coughed and spluttered, trying to swallow and failing miserably. "Water," I croaked.

Lou quickly handed me the water and I drank it in three big gulps. She stared at me in surprise. "Don't you like it?"

"I hope you don't cook for your 'boys' the way you cook for me!" I replied, running my tongue along my teeth, hoping to scrape off the flavor that still lingered. "Good God, Lou, if you were trying to kill me, you should have just left me out in the snow! I'd much rather die of frostbite, I can assure you!"

For a second she looked as if she wanted to strangle me, but then she threw her head back and laughed. "You're so dramatic!" she said.

"I'm not being dramatic. If anything, I'm understating! This is really awful, Lou. Who taught you to cook?"

"I taught myself," she said indignantly.

"Well, I don't know whether you're a poor teacher or a poor student, but either way, you shouldn't be allowed near a kitchen." I tossed the spoon in the bowl and wolfed down a biscuit.

She laughed again, shaking her head in amusement. "You sound like Jimmy."

I paused as I tore another shred of biscuit. "Who's Jimmy?"

"One of the boys I lived with." She stopped, a strange look crossing her face as she realized she had spoken in the past tense. "Live with," she said. "One of the boys I live with."

I continued on, pretending not to notice. "What are they like, these boys of yours?"

"They're a mess," she said, breaking into a radiant smile. For the next two hours Lou described her friends to me as I ate biscuit after biscuit. I heard about them all: Jimmy, Noah, Ike, Teaspoon, Rachel, Emma, Sam, Buck, Cody, and the Kid. Especially the Kid. She went on at great length about him, how handsome he was, how kind, how sweet, how loyal and upstanding and gentle and just generally perfect in every way. It was clear the sun rose and set on the man's shoulders. I tried to hate him, but I just couldn't. Her praise was extravagant but sincere. She didn't idealize this man, she saw him as he was, and he was wonderful to her. When she had finished describing everything from Cody's snoring to Ike's teasing to Emma and Sam's marriage, I sat back and looked at the bright, happy smile on her pretty face. She had a distant look, as if her mind was far away.

"They sound terrific," I said.

She replied simply, "They are. They're my family."

I moved against the couch, wincing as my side hit the cushion.

"Let's take a look at those wounds of yours." She became business-like, throwing the covers aside and peering over my bare foot. I looked, too. She had bandaged it very well. She poked it gently with her finger. "That hurt?"

I gritted my teeth. "It's tolerable."

"Well, you should stay off it for the next several days."

"Certainly, Doctor Lou."

She moved to examine the back of my head, touching the tender bruise. I hissed with pain and she clucked sympathetically. "Now the shirt," she said.

I stared in alarm. "I beg your pardon?"

"Come on, don't be shy. I've dressed it twice already, I can dress it again."

"No, I don't think so, Lou."

"What a baby! Lord, Rafferty, it ain't like I've never seen a man's bare chest before!"

I blushed.

"Oh, now don't tell me a ladies man like yourself don't like the thought of a lady seein' him without his shirt on."

"Those circumstances were...different," I finished lamely.

"How were they different?"

Because I didn't give a toss about impressing those women, I thought, and because I didn't love them. But in response, I only shrugged.

"Off with the shirt, Rafferty."

Reluctantly I began to unbutton my shirt. I was being ridiculous, of course; as Lou herself had pointed out, she had been the one dressing my wounds to begin with. What was the difference now? There bloody well was a difference, and there was no way I could tell her. My hands and fingers were very weak, the life only just returning to them, so the process was slow. Once finished, I spread my shirt out and waited as Lou performed her inspection.

The blood had soaked clean through the bandage. Lou made another clucking noise and reached for the bandages that rested by the couch, her free hand resting on my bare chest. I squirmed under her touch.

"Uncomfortable?"

Not quite in the way she meant. "I'm fine," I assured her.

She made quick work of removing the soiled bandage and daubing it with the ointment she had found in my bags. She covered the wound once more and secured it to my skin with a final pat. "There," she said, pleased with her work.

I looked down at the finished product. "I must say, you make a much better doctor than you do a chef."

"Very funny," she shot back. She began to roll up the cotton roll once more.

"Lou?"

"Hmm?" She looked back at me.

I took her hand in mine. I don't know what possessed me to do it, but I did. I sat up again, our face inches apart. I looked into her eyes. "Thank you, Lou," I whispered.

She blinked. "You're welcome."

She was so close and she smelled fresh and sweet. She was the most amazing woman I'd ever known, and I'd only known her a few days...during one of which I was completely unconscious. She had teased me and taunted me, beaten me at Checkers, made me horrible porridge, and saved my life. If that wasn't enough reason to love her, there would never be enough reason.

"Lou..." I whispered, moving my head to hers in the age-old style of a man who wants to kiss a woman. She closed her lids over her dark brown eyes, and then I closed mine, intent, impatient, waiting for the moment when our lips would meet. But what I felt instead was the cool firmness of her fingertips. I opened my eyes and stared right into hers. We were so close that when she blinked, her eyelashes brushed my cheek. Her hand was at my mouth, stopping me from moving further.

"Rafferty, don't..."

I moved back, offended and angry as only a man can be when he has been rejected. "Fine," I said.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry," I said coolly. "What have you got to be sorry for? Any woman in your situation would do the same." I sank back down among the cushions, buttoning my shirt again.

"No," she said helplessly. "Rafferty, it's so much more than that."

I cut her off with a wave of my hand. "Forget it. You don't owe me an explanation."

"I think you feel somethin' for me that I don't feel for you. Rafferty, even if you weren't the man who'd kidnapped me, I still couldn't...be with you. I love someone else. I don't mean to hurt you. You've been so nice, considering the circumstances -"

Oh, God, she was pitying me. This was not to be tolerated. "Look," I broke in with a short laugh. "I think you're reading much more into this than is actually there, Lou. You're overreacting. It was just an attempt at a kiss. A kiss doesn't always have to mean something."

The look in her eyes...as if I had slapped her. "Oh," she said softly, coloring with embarrassment. "I thought..."

"Never mind," I said softly. "It doesn't matter, Lou."

She rose and ran her hands over her hips, coughing nervously. "Can I get you anything?" she asked again.

I closed my eyes. "No," I whispered.

Nothing you'd be willing to give.


	7. Chapter 7

**CHAPTER SEVEN**

You probably feel the need to judge me for my actions. 'Typical male,' you're thinking to yourself. 'Doesn't get what he wants, so he pretends he never wanted it in the first place.' But let me just say this: I was hurting very badly. When I hurt, I do stupid things. I lash out, I change tactics, I do what needs to be done to save myself every scrap of dignity I can. I don't know if this is typical of all men; it's certainly very typical of Rafferty Nolan.

I had never been in this situation before. I had never loved a woman the way I loved Lou. Before her, women were just lovely people to pass the time with, to flirt with and make love to. I paid no attention to how many broken hearts I left behind me, for no woman ever touched my own heart enough to break mine. I was a rake, a rogue, a cad, whatever you want to call it. I had the utmost respect for women, but I suppose I never really respected their feelings.

Within three days I knew Lou McCloud. Maybe I didn't know her favorite food or her favorite song; I didn't know if she was an early riser or a night owl, hadn't the slightest inkling whether she preferred coffee to tea or Shakespeare to Dickens. I didn't know any of those things. But I knew her.

I knew the care she took in forming her opinions, the humor that lit her from the inside, the compassion she had within her, so deep it could even encompass the man who had taken her away from all she knew and loved. I knew she had a soul of pure goodness, a heart of joy and love, a tenderness that would make any man glad to be alive. So you see why it didn't take me very long to know I loved her. When faced with such a woman, a better man than I would have fallen just as quickly.

I loved her and she didn't love me. She loved another man. It's a story as old as time itself.

* * *

"I've not told you about my sister, have I?"

It was later that same evening. The fire was bursting in the fireplace. Lou was sitting in front of it, poking it with the tongs. Her legs were folded underneath her. I was still laying on the couch, letting the life flow back into my body. We had been silent for hours. Now she turned and looked at me, unsure how to respond. "You've mentioned her," she said.

The wind was blowing, but Lou had stopped up all the cracks and crevices in the walls and we were quite warm and snug inside the house. I stared at the ceiling. "Her name was Sara. She was four years older than I was; my big sister. I worshipped her. My mother died when I was very young, so I suppose Sara became my mother in a way." I dared to look at Lou. She was watching me, her head cocked to one side, listening.

"Go on," she said.

I continued, "She was very beautiful. Nut brown hair, pale skin, green eyes."

"Like yours?"

I shook my head. "Darker. Like pine trees. Very lovely. She was a lovely girl. Our father had his hands full keeping the men away. He adored her just as much as I did, but he never cared much for me. I reminded him too much of my mother: her looks, her temper, her likes and dislikes, everything. He didn't like to be reminded of my mother, because he loved her very much, and something inside him died when she did. Sara was my father's daughter and he doted on her. At any rate...when Sara turned 22, she met this man. A man called Todd Stidham." I stopped, remembering. When I spoke again, my voice was hard, angry. "He was rather poor with a shady past. The townspeople all said he was no good. His father had been a gambler and a gun-slinger; they said the apple didn't fall far from the tree and that Todd would end up doing someone harm. But Sara didn't listen, and she married Todd anyway. Despite everyone's protests, even my father's."

I heard Lou draw her breath in. "Go on," she whispered a second time.

"He did do someone harm. He did my sister harm. He was very jealous, and one day she smiled at a man on the street. When Stidham was alone with my sister he..."

Lou moved close to the couch and put her hand on my arm. I took it gratefully. I couldn't draw this story out, it was too painful. "He killed her. Eventually. He beat her to death. Then the truth came out, that he'd been beating her all along. Suddenly it all made sense - the bruises, the cuts, the scrapes. She always had some excuse for them, she'd say she'd fallen or something had fallen on her. She said, 'Oh, I'm just getting so clumsy these days'. I was just a kid, I had no idea what was really going on. I used to tease her about being such a klutz. And then...he killed her. The goddamn bastard killed her."

It was a while before I could go on. I was not ashamed of the tears that fell down my face, only of the story that was to come. "I was eighteen and headstrong. I wanted to challenge Stidham, but I wasn't a good enough marksman."

"Challenge him? Why wasn't he in jail?"

I smiled bitterly. "No proof. Ironic, isn't it?"

"No proof?" Lou exclaimed.

"The judge was a very close friend of Stidham's. He ruled insufficient evidence and Stidham went free. I knew any justice dealt would be up to me. I decided to practice, so that when the time came and I was ready, I could kill him. I practiced for weeks, and then I went to see him. I'd hardly pulled my gun out of the holster before he'd shot me in the leg. I fell down and cried. It hurt so badly, Lou! He just stood over me and laughed. When I got home, my father said I'd shamed him and told me to leave. He said I'd brought disgrace on the family and on my sister's memory. So I left. With no money, no other clothes, nothing. That was almost three years ago."

"And you started thievin'," Lou said quietly.

"Yes. It was a lark, at first, and it happened completely by accident. I was stopped at the side of a road, examining this scratch on my gun barrel. A stage was passing by and my gun accidentally went off. I tried to steady it, and set it off again. The old man driving the stage stopped so suddenly I thought he'd choked one of the horses to death. There were women inside and one old priest. They started screaming and the driver said, 'We're being robbed! Just hand him your goods and I'm sure he won't hurt us.' For a minute I just thought, 'What the hell are they talking about?' Then it hit me, and I said, 'Yes, sir, that's right. Just hand over your cash and your jewelry and I'll be on my way.' I had no idea what I was doing. My heart was pounding, I was scared out of my mind, but excited, too. I took whatever they held out to me, and then I kicked my horse till he ran like hell. A few months later I ran into Harry and he joined me. It's been that way ever since."

Lou sighed sharply, shaking her head. "You oughta be in a castle by now. Where's all that gone to, Rafferty? I don't see any of it. Do you just gamble it away? What purpose does your life serve?"

"I don't gamble," I said. "Most of it I've given away, to women, children, people who catch my fancy. Harry tends to send his half to his sisters and mother; he's very homesick these days. Some of it we keep to pay for food and clothes, just to get by. But most of it we don't keep."

"You are a Robin Hood," she smiled. "But that don't make it right."

I shrugged. "We can't all be noble men, Lou. Everything evens out. There has to be some balance to life. You could say that Kid is my better half in the world." "You underestimate yourself, Rafferty. I told you before there's a lot more to you than this."

"I think I've reached my full potential," I grinned. "'Some are born great, some achieve greatness, and some have greatness thrust upon them.'"

Lou grinned wryly. "You always got a quote for everything, don't you?"

"Twelfth Night. Shakespeare. The man's a treasure trove of quotables."

"I'll take your word for it."

"You really ought to read him, Lou. He's the greatest story-teller who ever lived. The man was pure genius."

"Maybe some day. Right now I've got enough to do makin' my runs and dealin' with a passel of boys who try my patience."

"You could leave now," I said, though it killed me to say it. "You could go, Lou. There's nothing stopping you. Lord knows I couldn't. You could take my horse and go."

"I thought of that," she said, nodding. "After I brought you in here and doctored you up. Once I figured you were gonna be all right, I knew I could leave. I tried to. I got as far as the barn."

"What stopped you?" My heart caught in my throat, waiting for her answer.

"Your horse is dead, Rafferty. When I went in the barn, I found him dead."

It was far from the answer I had expected. My eyes stung with tears, but I fended them off. True I had been fond of Rocky, but after all, he was only a horse. One tear slipped out and slid down my cheek. I bloody loved that horse.

"I know how you must feel. We all get attached to our animals, 'specially our horses. Poor Rafferty." She smoothed my bangs away from my face.

"I'll be all right." I moved away from her touch. She was too close. I wanted to kiss her again. I had to move away.

"Want somethin' to eat?"

"None of that ghastly porridge stuff!"

Lou laughed. "I found some jerky and there's some beans left."

"That'll do."

I listened to her movements in the kitchen as she fixed me the food. What a peculiar turn of events life had taken, all because of one irrational decision. Lou was caring for me as devotedly as if I were a friend.

"Lou?" I asked.

"Yeah?" she called from the kitchen.

"Doesn't any of this strike you as bizarre?"

"Any of what?"

"This -" I waved my hand about in the air. "All of this. You, me, here, talking like two civilized adults instead of the thief and his hostage."

Lou came walking into the living room with a grin. "It'd be pretty strange if I didn't think about it. There you go," she said, handing me the beans. "I've been kidnapped more times than I care to remember, Rafferty."

I looked at her, startled.

"At least two that I can think of right off-hand, and that's more than your average gal. I'm in a dangerous line of work. I've been shot at, blackmailed, threatened and beaten by men and women all over the country. I've learned pretty quick how to judge a man. I can tell the difference between a low-down dirty dog and a man just down on his luck, quicker than you can blink an eye. You're not either one of those, but the moment I...well, 'met' you is probably the best word...from the moment I met you I knew you weren't a bad person. You made stupid decisions, that was for damn sure, but I just knew there was more to you. And then I started talkin' to you, and you started talkin' to me, and it didn't take long for me to figure out you were more than just not a bad person: you're a good person. I won't pretend these circumstances aren't some of the strangest I've been in, but if life's taught me anything, it's to roll with the punches. I go with the flow, Rafferty, and if it's led me to you, well then, so be it."

"Do you believe in fate, Lou?"

"No."

"Neither do I."

"I believe there are choices that lead you to other choices, and that some things just work out for the best. But I don't believe things are meant to be a certain way. Things just are what they are. You have to work at them to make them turn out the way you want them to. If there's somethin' you want, reach out and try to take it. If there's somethin' you gotta say, say it and don't let it eat you up inside for the rest of your life. You can't just sit back and let things happen to you."

"Better to be silent and be thought the fool than to speak out and remove all doubt," I said, in defense of her unknowing attack.

"Dammit, Rafferty, stop hidin' behind other men's words."

"Sometimes, Lou, it's better not to risk yourself by speaking out. Don't you agree?"

"No." She shook her head firmly. "What do you gain by keeping quiet?"

"Dignity. Self-respect. A bit of pride."

"To hell with your pride," she said impatiently. "Life's too short to worry about your pride. As for your dignity and your self-respect, well, in my book speakin' out and bein' honest is the only way to feel dignified and respect yourself.

I smiled at her earnest tone. "You fight the good fight, Lou. No wonder I already love you."

I hadn't meant to say it, it just came out of its own accord. She didn't look surprised or upset. She just smiled back.

"I love you," I whispered.

She rose to her knees and leaned over me, pressing a lingering kiss to my forehead. Then she pulled away and met my gaze with her own. "I know you do," she said.


	8. Chapter 8

**CHAPTER EIGHT**

We spent the next few days inside the house. There was no need for us to venture out now that poor Rocky was gone. The storm itself continued to rage for two more days, finally ending that Friday. It wouldn't have made a difference if I had had a horse; Lou would not have been able to stir, for the snow had fallen up against the sides of the house, blocking the door, reaching to just under the windowsills.

After that night Lou said nothing more about my confession. Instead we spent the days playing checkers and card games and reading aloud. We talked often, but never of serious subjects. She told me more about her friends and I relayed the funnier escapades Harry and I had indulged in during our career together. I grew closer to her than I had to anyone since Sara's death, and I think Lou was rather fond of me as well. It was difficult to keep the love from my eyes, as she made some reference to the Kid at every given opportunity. I knew she was trying to sway me from my affections, but I only loved her more as each day passed.

"Rafferty," she said one day, after I had finally beaten her at checkers. "Can I ask you somethin'?"

"I did not cheat!" I retorted in reply.

She laughed. "That's not what I was goin' to ask you."

"Oh. Sorry. Go ahead."

"Why did you try to rob Cody and me that day?"

I wasn't expecting the question at that precise moment, although I had been anticipating it for a while. I didn't relish the answer I had to give her; it was honest, but hardly flattering. I cleared my throat. "Ahem..."

"I'm sorry," she went on, "I just have to know. We weren't carryin' anything valuable, just some letters that had to get to Sacramento. Why us? Why not some fancy stage or somethin'?"

"Ah, well, Lou, the honest truth is...the honest truth is that you were there. I was bored and you two happened along. You seemed easy targets, so we made our move."

She stared at me, aghast. "You were bored?" she exclaimed.

"Um, yes."

"We looked like easy targets?"

"Well, I thought so." I bowed my head to fixate on the game board so as not to meet her eyes again. When I heard the first strangled noise I thought she was choking. My head flew up. She was laughing. The woman would never cease to amaze me. She was actually laughing. I was indignant. "I don't think it's very funny."

"I guess it ain't really," she replied with a sigh as her laughter died away. "Just the thought of two grown men so bored they decide to rob a coupla Pony Express riders for the hell of it. God, you're a funny fella, Rafferty. I guess I should stop bein' so surprised by the things that come outta your mouth, but I always am."

I grinned wryly. "I'm flattered to know I keep you guessing."

"More than any man I've ever met."

"Well, that's something, at least."

Lou began fiddling with one of the game pieces. "Rafferty, the snow has stopped."

"Yes," I agreed, knowing where this conversation would lead.

"Once it melts a little bit more, and Harry comes back, I'd like to leave." She looked up at me hopefully.

As if I could have refused her. "Of course."

She breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank you, Rafferty. I just pray I find the boys in time and that no harm's come to them."

I tried to assuage her fears. "I'm sure they're fine, Lou. I've thought about it, and my best guess is that Cody didn't make it back to your station until nightfall, by which time the snow would have started. They probably had to wait for the storm to blow over, and I would imagine they've all been snug at home in the meantime."

Lou just shook her head and grinned. "You don't know the boys," was all she said.

* * *

She was right, of course: I didn't know the boys. These seven young men who would fight and die for her as gladly as I would have. I didn't know that they were willing to brave the snow and the cold to find her, to save her, to bring her back. I didn't know that with every moment that passed they were nearing my doorstep.

That same night I fell into a fitful sleep, dreaming variations of one dream over and over: robbing a stage with Sara by my side, the wheels of the vehicle screeching to a halt. Upon peering into the stage I was met by Lou's eyes. In one dream she was a lady of leisure who screamed when she saw me; the next time she was the driver of the stage and she shot at me, piercing my stomach with her bullet; then she was a bride in a wedding dress with a man by her side, a man who used Lou's knife to stab me in the chest. The man had a blurry face, but I knew it was the Kid, a man whose face I had never seen.

I woke in the early hours of morning, my eyes opening abruptly in the faint darkness. I could hear birds singing and a strange, repetitive noise that I wasn't able to identify. I rose gingerly, carefully hopping on my still-sore ankle, and went to the window, drawing the curtains.

I easily found the source of the strange sound: it was the snow on the roof melting, dropping onto the tin tub underneath the eave, landing with a plop each time. The sun was shining brilliantly and everywhere I looked the snow was melting.

I heard Lou's footsteps and turned to find her standing in the doorway with a bright smile. "Can you believe it?" she said, motioning outside. "It's already meltin'!"

"No, I can't believe it," I answered, my voice catching on the words.

"Do you think Harry might be back today?"

"I hope so," I lied.

Lou scampered off to Harry's room, where she had been sleeping. She came back after a minute or two, fully dressed, still grinning for all she was worth. "I just don't know if I can wait for him to get here! I hope he won't mind too much that I'm takin' his horse."

"He won't mind," I said. "I'll make sure of it."

"Thank you, Rafferty." She was sincere, I could tell that much. "Come on, let's get some breakfast."

Life had become as cozy and domestic as if we were a married couple. We rose in the mornings and fixed breakfast, did what little chores could be done around the house, and then entertained ourselves as best we could. It had only been a week, but I had grown used to this life.

"Read me another one of those sonnets," Lou said to me after lunch that day. She curled into a ball on the sofa, handing me my book. "I rather like this Mr Shakespeare of yours."

"A sonnet?" I took the book from her and turned away, my back to her. I surreptitiously withdrew a piece of paper from my pocket and slipped it in between its pages. Then I turned back to her and opened the book. "All right, how about this one?"

_Lengthy though the years may be_

_in love's eyes they pass too soon_

_It's no more the herald of a winter's eve_

_than it's the coming of a warm summer June_

_Before I loved you the days crept by_

_and I only prayed for each moment to pass_

_Now a day can pass in a sigh_

_clinging to moments that hardly last_

_Let love stop time and time smile on love_

_and let lovers spend their days_

_Drinking long draughts of the purest love_

_in the eyes of their true love's gaze_

_O, if time were so kind to love by and by_

_What amazements would young lovers try._

I stopped, looking at her expectantly. Her eyes were soft, thoughtful. "That was lovely," she said. "It was different from the other ones you've read to me."

I flushed. "Yes, a bit. Not as good, I suppose."

"Sure it was. I liked it. It was sad, though. He must have been sad when he wrote it."

"Perhaps he was. Perhaps he had to say goodbye to the woman he loves. I know I've often wished that time had a tail so we could grab it and slow it down."

Lou smiled at me. "You're a smart man, Rafferty. I'd love to understand half the things you understand."

I laughed self-consciously. "Oh, I'm not all that smart," I protested. "I've no head for figures. If you sat me down with my sums I'd be tearing my hair out."

"I don't mean smart that way. You...you understand things. You understand why Shakespeare wrote that poem-"

"I'm only guessing, Lou," I protested.

She shook her head. "No, you understand. I can see it in your eyes. You know what this poem is about, what he was feelin' when he wrote it. You're smart that way. You see deep into things."

"Not too bad for a thief and a rogue, eh?"

"Not too bad," she teased.

I rubbed my side through the flannel shirt I wore.

"How's it feelin'?"

"Not too bad. It's healing well."

"Do you think we -"

We heard a scuffle on the roof. The blast of a gun shattered her words, cutting them off sharply. Lou and I both shot to our feet, staring in the direction the sound had come from. Without realizing I was doing it, I moved to stand in front of Lou, pushing her behind me as I looked out.

"Stay still," I instructed her. "Let me find out what's going on."

Then we heard a voice. A loud, angry, demanding voice. "Send her out!"

"Kid!" Lou gasped. "That's the Kid!"

My heart stopped, struggled to start again. Lou darted out from behind me and ran to the door, throwing it open. "Just a minute, boys! I'm comin'! I'm all right! I'm fine!"

Her friends were cleverly hidden. Only upon closer inspection did I see just where they had positioned themselves. We heard footsteps running above us on the roof and then a young man with a bandanna tied around his head leapt from the roof, landing on the ground in the softening snow. He landed on his feet in front of Lou, as lithe as a cat.

I stepped up behind Lou, trying to coax the rush of adrenaline back from my veins. I handed her the coat she had left on the couch. "Here you go," I whispered, touching her arm to let her know I was there.

Suddenly a tall, lanky man jumped from his hiding place, his hat flying off his head. He pointed his gun at me. "Don't you touch her!" he roared. "You stay away from her!" And then he shot.

He was an ace marksman. I looked down to see the blood before I actually felt the pain. That was how quick he was. I put my hand to my chest and slumped against the doorframe. I heard Lou's scream. "No! Kid, no!" She rushed to my side, pushing the man in the bandanna away as he reached for her.

My knees gave way and I landed on the cold, wet ground. Lou dropped to her knees beside me, looking into my eyes, her hands on my shoulders. I felt strange, as if my mind was floating away from me. My eyes swam in and out of focus. "Lou...Is this what it feels like to get shot, Lou?"

Her reply was muffled. I saw her mouth moving, her lips curling to form the words, but I didn't hear anything.

"Was that the Kid, Lou?" I murmured drowsily. "That man who shot me?" I didn't wait for a reply. "And...the other one...the one with the kerchief...he's...Ike, right?" The words were coming slower now. I had to concentrate harder. I saw figures running towards Lou, circling around her.

It was becoming harder and harder to see. My hand felt wet, sticky with my blood. Then I heard her sobs. Her voice seemed far, far away. I could hardly make out the words. It sounded as if she was saying, "You fools. Why didn't you listen to me? I said I was fine!"

"But, Lou!" protested a voice.

Everything was growing darker. I felt another pair of hands touching my chest. "It hurts, Lou," I whispered.

"I know, Rafferty, I'm sorry," she wept.

"I'm sorry for...all of this..sorry."

"Oh, God...Rafferty, don't."

"Lou?"

"Yes?"

"I...wrote...that poem."

"I know, Rafferty, I know."

"Lou?"

"Yes, Rafferty?"

"You've been...a hell of a lot of...trouble, Lou."

I closed my eyes.

_(Author's note: Man, that poem is too cheesy for words! In my defense, I was pretty young when I wrote this.)_


	9. Chapter 9

**CHAPTER NINE**

No, I didn't die. Of course not. I'm telling this story, aren't I? Although I have to admit that there was a point when even in my semi-conscious state, I knew it was touch and go. I could feel my life ebbing and flowing. My body drifted away, my mind struggled to bring it back. Voices swirled around my ears like feathers in the wind; I could never catch them.

My thoughts mixed together, jumbling moments in time. I was at a funeral, sobbing, but it was Lou's funeral; I had a gun pointed threateningly, but it was pointed at my father, and he wore a hat just like the Kid's. The fever overtook my brain, and I saw my mother leaning over me and I called out for her. I saw Stidham standing in the corner and I threatened to kill him if he came any closer. It was as close to madness as I was likely to ever get. When I awoke it was to silence in the room. I could hear the soft rustle of the wind whistling around the house. I was in my bed, in my room, and I was alone.

Voices were outside my room. The door was closed. I tried to lift my head, but my neck was weak and did not support me well. I tossed back amongst the pillows and tried to think what day it was, how I might have gotten there.

"Hello?" I called. My voice was low, but surprisingly strong. "Hello?"

The door opened. My heart lifted, expecting to see Lou, but it was Harry who walked into the room. He managed to look both sheepish and concerned. His shoulder was in a sling. "Hey, Raff."

"Harry," I greeted him. "What day is this?"

"It's Monday."

I had lost two more days. If I continued at this rate I'd have whole weeks I couldn't account for. "Are you feeling better, Harry?"

He nodded, gently patting his shoulder with his other hand. "Doesn't hurt near as much as it did. How are you feelin'?"

I concentrated for a moment and felt the pain seeping into my consciousness. My chest felt as if it had been ripped open. I was shirtless, the sheets pulled up to my arms, and I lacked the courage to strip them away and look at my wound. My ankle was still sore, the spot on the back of my head still tender from when I had fallen. "Not so good, Harry. I'm falling apart at the seams. You sure picked a hell of a time to be gone."

Harry relaxed. "Wasn't exactly by choice, Raff. I couldn't believe it when I saw that snow start fallin'! The doc let me stay up at his place. I figured I could head back here the next day, but it just didn't let up. I figured you'd be all right," he said anxiously, "otherwise I woulda come back."

I smiled. "It's all right, Harry. I was fine. I wouldn't have you risking your life to save my sorry carcass anyway."

"Me, either," he grinned.

"When did Lou leave?" I was unable to keep from asking the question. Harry looked puzzled. "Lou ain't left yet. Those friends of hers did, 'cept for the skinny guy; but Lou's still here."

The skinny guy. Kid.

"You were really lucky, Raff, that Injun friend of Lou's was able to remove the bullet and then she dressed your wound up real nice. It's gonna hurt like a sonofabitch for a while, but you'll be all right." He paused, his eyebrow raised. "What the hell happened to you while I was gone, anyway? You got frostbite on your toes, your head's all banged up, your ankle's twisted, your skin's all windburned. You look like you've had a hell of a time. I didn't think one little ol' girl could cause that much trouble."

"You have no idea, Harry," I laughed.

"Want me to send her in, Raff?"

"If she wants to see me."

"I'm sure she will. She's been right anxious ever since that man a'hers shot you. What's goin' on, Raff?"

I knew what he was referring to. When he had left Lou had been an angry captive, lashing out at me and receiving my lashes in return. Now she was sticking around long after she could have gone free. In answer I shook my head, hoping to convey that it was too complicated to explain.

Harry shrugged and left the room. A moment later I heard Lou's voice nearing my bedroom door. She was bickering with someone. "I do not want you to come in there with me, Kid! I am goin' in alone." I didn't hear Kid's reply, but I heard Lou's: "You think he wants to see you? You shot him, dammit! I'm goin' alone."

There was silence and then I heard her tone soften, grow heavy with love and affection, "I know. You're right. I love you, too."

The door creaked open again and Lou shut it behind her. She came to the foot of my bed. "Hey."

"Hello."

"Mind if I sit down?"

"Please do."

She carefully deposited herself at my feet. Resting her hand on my arm she said, "How you feelin'?"

"Like I've been dragged through hell and back," I answered truthfully.

Lou laughed. "You're a sorry sight," she agreed.

"Gee, thanks."

Her tone was affectionate, as one friend to another. "You're handsome as ever, Rafferty, but you look like you been rode hard and put away wet."

"What a vivid image," I chuckled. "You, on the other hand, look alarmingly beautiful."

She blushed and ducked her head. "I borrowed one of your sister's dresses. My other clothes got all bloodied."

"You're welcome to it," I assured her. "But it's something other than the dress, I think."

"I reckon it's bein' back with the Kid. He makes me feel real good inside."

"It shows."

"Thank you."

"Lou, why did you stay? You could have gone."

She looked surprised. "Why would I leave? Lord, Rafferty, I had to be sure you were all right."

"That's kind of you, Lou, but you shouldn't have concerned yourself."

"Don't talk like that. I care what happens to you. You're my friend. It's been the nicest kidnappin' I ever been a part of." She slapped my arm teasingly.

"I love you, Lou." I couldn't help it, it just came out.

Her smile faded. "I know, Rafferty. I'm sorry."

I sighed. "Well, it can't be helped."

"You need to find yourself a girl, Rafferty. I know you could. You're smart, clever, charmin', good-lookin', funny..." She trailed off and looked away. "I came so close, you know, to feelin' that way for you. I'd look into your eyes...they're such a pretty green...and sometimes I knew you wanted to kiss me, and I came so close to kissin' you." Her eyes turned back to mine. "But I been down this road before, Rafferty. There was a time I thought I had feelin's for another man, and I followed those feelin's, and it ended up in a lot of hurt. You see, I love Kid. I love him with everything I got in me. And I can't let my appreciation for a handsome face and a nice laugh get in the way of that. Because when it all comes down to it, he's the one I want."

I closed my eyes against the eloquence of her reply, willing my heart to go on beating. Her words killed something inside of me; some hope, perhaps; some willingness to believe that if I wanted something badly enough it was within my grasp. I opened my eyes again and faked a smile.

"Well, at least you think I'm handsome."

Lou giggled, relieved that I seemed to have taken it well. "You're what Rachel would call a mighty fine sight for appreciative eyes."

We laughed.

"Thank you, Lou, for staying. It means a great deal to me."

She clasped my hand within both of hers. "You're welcome."

"I suppose you'll be going now."

"Yes. Kid's itchin' to get outta here. The other boys went back. I wish you coulda met them."

I grinned wryly. "I'm not very keen on that idea."

"Well," she admitted, "they weren't all that fond of the idea, either. I'm sorry Kid shot you. That don't seem adequate somehow, but I am sorry."

"Don't apologize. I'm sure I would have done the same in his shoes. You don't always see clear when you love someone."

"Under other circumstances you woulda liked them and they woulda liked you," she said.

"Then I'm only sorry we didn't meet under different circumstances."

Lou was thoughtful. "I better go."

"Yes, fine. Harry will take good care of me." I used my brightest, cheeriest voice.

Lou rose from the bed. She stretched her hand out. "Come and see me sometime, will you?" "No, Lou, I don't think I'd better."

Her face fell, but I could see in her eyes that she agreed. She held out her hand. I took it and we shook.

"Goodbye, Rafferty."

"Goodbye, Lou."

When she opened the door, the Kid was on the other side. He stood like a statue, his face frozen into subdued anger. Our eyes met across the room. He was a formidable fellow. Our gazes locked, for just an instant, and then he broke off to take Lou's arm. It was a subtle gesture reminding me that I had lost not a game or the prize of Lou's love, but my own heart. It was gone forever. I would never get it back.

* * *

I sat around a goodly length of time and generally just felt sorry for myself. I moped, I fretted, I yelled at Harry more than was strictly necessary. I was a moody, irritating pain in the neck. Which is pretty much where I began this story.

But one can only go on like that for so long. Eventually laying around feeling pitiful got on my nerves. I've once again begun to make my way in the world. My chest is beginning to heal nicely and my ankle has quickly restored to its usual strength. I was indeed a mess when Harry came back, but my body has begun to recover. I've thought of Lou every day since then. I think of something she said, or the way she laughed, or the kindness in her eyes. I love her. It irritates me that I still do, but I can't seem to stop. My heart has truly betrayed me, the foolish, irrational thing.

I suppose I would still be feeling sorry for myself, pitying myself for loving a woman who doesn't love me back, if not for the reminder that Lou will never forget me, either. I must be content with the knowledge that she does care, even if only in some small way, and with the knowledge that when I went to retrieve my poem from the book of Shakespeare's sonnets, it was gone.

She has taken it with her.


	10. Chapter 10

**CHAPTER TEN**

For a few weeks after Lou left, the weather was gorgeously autumnal. The freak snowstorm was nearly forgotten as we basked in the pleasant coolness of each day. Harry and I began to once again make our rounds, pulling alongside stages and the occasional train. We did rather nicely for ourselves, in preparation of the winter weather that would surely come. We preferred not to work in the winter.

The snow came again in late November, this time not letting up until spring came. I longed for Lou. Nights by the fire with Harry just didn't cut it. He certainly wasn't interested in poetry. Spring arrived, greeting us like a lover's embrace, warm and friendly and inviting. Harry and I had passed the winter by trekking often to town, spending nights in the hotel when we weren't spending them in the saloon. I met a girl called Marie, and we began keeping company. Within a fortnight she looked into my eyes and told me she had never loved any man as much as she loved me. I beat a hasty retreat. Harry met a girl by the name of Suellen, and when spring came he announced that they were getting married.

I wasn't surprised, but I was a bit frustrated. I didn't know what the hell I was supposed to do with myself. Harry informed me that he and Suellen were heading back to Abilene to be with his family and to live "decent, respectable lives". I didn't point out the irony in this coming from a former thief and his ex-prostitute wife. They were married in March amid spring breezes and blossoming flowers. I was best man, mostly by default. And then I saw them off at the station when they headed to Texas.

I found myself alone. I hadn't been alone in years. I wandered around the house, not sure what I should do. Marie visited me; she seemed to have quite lost her heart altogether. I was as kind as I could be in the face of her devotion, but my heart still pined for Lou, and I could not give Marie what she asked for.

That spring I began to make trips to see Lou. That is, to watch her. I never let her see me in return. I rode out to the Express station at least once every fortnight, and managed to catch several glimpses of her.

With each visit she grew lovelier and lovelier, the masculine disguise slowly slipping away. I watched her as she laughed with the Kid, pulled Cody's blond hair, joyously hugged Ike. Occasionally I would stop in town and ask after the riders. That was how, in the summer, I learned that Kid and Lou were getting married. She had at last been able to drop the disguise and live her life on her own terms. Even as my heart broke, I was happy for her.

She saw me one day. I hadn't meant for her to. It was a lazy summer afternoon; I had spent the day searching for her in vain. At last giving up, I turned and headed my horse back in the direction of McGovern Falls.

I ran straight into Lou. She was alone, dressed in breeches and a white shirt, her hair curling over her ears, her brown eyes shining. Her hat hung down her back, her soft hair exposed to the sun. She was riding slowly on a magnificent black horse, face turned upward to the warm rays that bathed her face. When she saw me, she stopped short.

"Well, hey, good-lookin!" she exclaimed.

My heart thudded. "Hello, Lou."

Her smile shone at me as bright as the day. "What are you doin' here?" she asked in genuine surprise.

"Just passing through."

She cocked her head to one side, studying me. "You look much better."

"The last time you saw me I was recovering from a bullet wound," I said, grinning.

"And you're doin' much better," she retorted. "Just like I said."

My spirits lifted. Perhaps I had missed this most of all: the verbal sparring, the playful banter, the way only Lou could give me a run for my money. "Yes, just as you say," I agreed.

"Stop a while. Let's chat!" She slid down off her horse and waited for me.

"I don't know, Lou..."

"Chicken!"

I looked into her mocking eyes. "All right," I relented, dismounting. We walked to a clearing of trees and sat down amid a circle of stones.

"What are you doing out here?" I asked.

"Just ridin'. Enjoyin' the sun."

"I heard you were getting married. Congratulations."

"How did you hear that?"

I shifted uncomfortably. "Oh, well, I, uh...ah, well, I...I asked."

"I see," Lou replied knowingly. "You just happened to pass through and you just happened to ask about me, is that it?"

"Pretty much."

"Liar."

"Guilty."

She grinned and looked away. "You've been thinkin' about me, Rafferty?"

I filled my gaze with her profile, the sweet, clean lines. "I haven't been thinking about much else."

"I've thought about you, too."

"Have you?" I kept my voice as light as possible.

"Tried to stop myself," continued Lou, "but I just don't seem to be able to."

"Oh..."

"I didn't trust what I felt for you, Rafferty. That's why I left."

"Sorry?" I was confused.

"You were just this good-lookin', good-for-nothin' thief. So you read poetry, so you quoted Shakespeare...why was that enough to turn my head when I had a man like Kid waitin' for me, worryin' himself sick over me? Kid makes me feel safe; you don't make me feel safe, you just make me feel...You're just so different from anyone I've ever met, Rafferty."

I sensed the danger that could arise out of such a conversation. I said, "Lou, I don't think we'd better keep talking like this. It's been a long time since we saw each other last, you don't want..."

"I want Kid," she answered quietly. "I love him. I just didn't like knowin' I'd left you the way I had, thinkin' you were the only one who was feelin' somethin'." Her head lifted and she met my eyes with her own. "Because you weren't."

"Oh," I whispered again.

She scooted closer to me and took one of my hands in hers. "It was a strange and wonderful week," she said.

"Yes." I closed my fingers around hers.

"I felt so different after I left you. Like I'd changed somehow." I had to strain to hear her. Her voice had faded away.

"I'd changed, too," I said.

She rested her head on my shoulder. I bent my face to hers and she did not protest. I closed my eyes, inhaling the scent of her, till I could feel her lips brushing against mine. We shared a long kiss, as sweet and gentle and innocent as the touch of summer that danced around us. When we separated, she smiled at me. "I'd better go," she said.

I nodded.

She rose and I followed her as she walked to her horse. "I won't see you again, will I?" she said.

"No. I'm going away." As I spoke it I knew it was the truth.

"I understand. It's for the best. I really do love him, you know."

"I know you do." And I did.

I watched as she hoisted herself up onto her horse. We stared at each other. "'Tis better to have loved and lost," I said, "than never to have loved at all."

"Do you believe that?"

"No. Tennyson was a liar."

"What do you believe?"

"I believe that, as Francis Bacon said, 'It is impossible to love and be wise'; I believe von Goethe, who said 'We are shaped and fashioned by what we love'; I believe the man who said, 'Within you I lose myself, without you I find myself wanting to be lost again'."

She smiled at me, remembering this side of me, hiding behind other men's words. "What do you believe?" she asked again, emphasizing 'you'.

"I believe that most people are as happy as they make up their minds to be, and I've made up my mind to be happy. You changed me, Lou. You did that for me." I squinted up at her as the sun shone into my eyes.

Lou reached down and slapped my shoulder playfully. "You go find yourself a girl, Rafferty."

"There won't ever be anyone to equal you, Lou."

"You'll find someone."

"Perhaps."

"Take care of yourself."

"You do the same. And make sure that husband of yours takes care of you, too."

"He will."

"Bye, Lou."

"Bye, Rafferty." But she didn't move to go. She stayed with her gaze locked in mine.

"Lou?"

"Rafferty..." I watched in shock as she slid down off her horse again and came running into my arms. I felt her lips pressing all over my face, my nose, my lips, my forehead, my neck; gentle kisses that stirred my heart back to life.

"Lou," I began, bewildered.

With a sob she burrowed her nose into the crevice between my neck and shoulder. "Oh, Rafferty!" she exclaimed, her voice muffled against my skin. "I hate myself sometimes."

I drew her closer, closing my eyes, burying my nose in her hair. "Why do you hate yourself, Lou?"

"For feelin' like this when I love the Kid so much."

"Lou," I said hesitantly, backing away from her, "I don't know much about love, but if you love the Kid that much, why do you feel anything for me?"

"I don't know." Her face was streaked with bright tears. She wiped them harshly away with the sleeve of her shirt. "Dammit, I just don't know."

"You don't trust me, do you?"

She sighed. "Not really, no."

"Well, then I think your decision's already made." I shook my head sadly and began to walk to my horse.

"No!" She lurched after me, grabbing my arm and pulling me around. "Don't leave. I'm so confused."

"I don't want to add to your confusion, Lou."

"I know you don't. It's just..." she ran her hands roughly through her hair. "It's just I been down this road before, with Jimmy, and it confused me, and it hurt him and it hurt the Kid, and I just can't do that again!"

"Then don't." I did not say it pitifully, only with resignation.

"But you - you make me feel so alive, Rafferty. Maybe not safe the way the Kid makes me feel, but I feel good inside, happy, alive. Oh, but the Kid makes me happy, too!" She sat down in a heap on the ground, her words miserable with frustration and confusion. "He does; he's lovely, he's wonderful, and he makes me happy. But he don't make me feel the way you do."

"Lou..." I crouched down before her, tilting her head up to look at me. "He's a better man than I am. Remember that. He's good and honest and pure and decent. I'm not any of those things. I'm just a man who loves you."

She grabbed my hand, clutching it to her lips. "I just don't know what to do."

"I'll tell you what you need to do," I said. "You need to think about this. Lou, I love you, and I know I'll never love anyone else. But if you choose the Kid, I will go on. I'll love you for the rest of my days, but I'll survive. I can't speak for Kid, but Lou, if you're going to make a decision, make sure it's the right one. Make sure it's one that you can live with. Because no matter what you do, you're going to hurt someone. I just want to be sure that it's Kid or me you'll be hurting, not yourself."

"I don't want to hurt anyone," she wailed.

"Shh," I murmured, smoothing down her unruly hair. "I know you don't, baby, but it's too late now. Hey, look at me." I waited until she complied, and then I smiled at her, my famous, charming smile. "Think about it. Make the decision that will make you happiest. I'll always love you no matter what you decide to do."

Lou smiled faintly through her tears. She stroked my face. "You're lovely," she said.

I kissed her forehead. "Decide whether or not you can trust me. Decide whether or not I make you feel as good as the Kid. Decide if you love me or if I'm just a distraction. Don't build me up because I read poetry and quote Shakespeare; I'm a very mortal man who makes very bad choices."

I spoke firmly, assured of what I was saying, for I knew it to be true. "I can't make grand promises, Lou. Somewhere down the line I'll hurt you. I know I will. And I don't mean inadvertent, accidental hurts that can't be helped. Because even though I love you and even though I will do everything in my power to protect and take care of you, I'm the sort of man who will still hurt you. So think very hard before you risk your heart to a man like me."

She looked at me warily. "You're just tryin' to scare me."

"No, I'm just telling you the truth. I'm a good-for-nothing -"

"I didn't mean that!" she broke in.

"I know you didn't, but it's true. I'm a good-for-nothing, not worth the bounty on my head. I can never measure up to Kid."

"I'm not askin' you to."

But her eyes pleaded with me to take it all back. She wanted me to be the sort of man Kid was, I could see that. She wanted me to promise to do better, to try harder, to change my ways. I knew that it was possible for me to try, but not to succeed. I could never be what she deserved. I would be the best man I could be, but I would still fall miserably short. "You'll have to lower you standards to be with me, Lou," I said with a self-deprecating grin.

"I have to think about this," she whispered.

I nodded. I didn't follow her as she went back to her horse and mounted up.

We didn't say another word. She didn't look back as she rode away. Maybe she didn't know the decision she would make, but in my heart I was sure I did.


	11. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

I was watching when Kid and Lou left the church on their wedding day. Lou was a vision in her dress, the crown of flowers she wore in her hair the perfect accent to a bride of her loveliness. She looked very happy, and the Kid was obviously beside himself with joy. Their friends crowded around them, showering them with love and affection. I knew she had made the right choice.

I left just after that, riding back to McGovern Falls, back to the house that Harry and I had occupied, and that, for such a short time, had housed the woman who had changed my life. The best I could do was go on with it, and remember her, for:

_When to the sessions of sweet silent thought_

_I summon up remembrance of things past,_

_I sigh the lack of many a thing I sought,_

_And with old woes new wail my dear time's waste_

There are, after all, still stagecoaches to be waylaid, still rich, fat men with big bellies and bigger pocketbooks who were practically begging to be relieved of some of their load. There were others out there who would be willing to take Harry's place; maybe I could join up with someone else. I had run into one particular man some time back, a man in my chosen line of work, whom I got along well with. He was in charge of his men, but I was more than willing to step aside and let another man lead. I wanted to be relieved of responsibility; I wanted someone else to make the decisions. I took one last look at the house before I rode out. Perhaps this time I would hold on to the things I took. Maybe I could buy myself a house, maybe sail back to my birthplace. Perhaps I could find my father, if he was still alive. Maybe I would even get married, although I doubted it. I wouldn't want a woman to feel the burden of Lou's memory lingering in my heart.

My story is at a close, then. A man thwarted in love, content to live with memories and not the reality. The only interesting thing about me was falling in love with Lou, and even that was hardly an original tale: life is full of lovers separated by circumstance. I must be happy with the knowledge that she felt something of what I felt.

I'm eager to begin working again. Now I have only to find Frank James.

_Good night, good night! Parting is such sweet sorrow That I shall say good night till it be morrow..._


End file.
